Mayberry Dotter and the Sorceress's Jewel
by HamFiction
Summary: Would the story of Harry Potter be the same if the genders were switched? This question raged in my head since the moment I put the final Harry Potter down. And so, I finally decided to answer the question for myself. This is the story of Harry Potter, but all the genders are switched. Harry is Mayberry, a tiny girl who is never thought she could be different, or special. Until now
1. Mayberry Dotter

Mayberry Dotter had to squat to get into her bed. She also had to squat to get off it. Needless to say, Mayberry's knees were not what an almost eleven years old should be. Her knees popped as she rose out of bed this morning, then cracked as she began to get dressed. Mayberry Dotter's knees were definitely eighty-nine years old.

"Mayberry!" the screech of her Uncle's shrill voice rose up. His voice was something Mayberry Dotter was habitual to, and every morning when he screamed for her, it felt more like her alarm clock than an actual human. His voice raged again. At least for an alarm clock, it could be silenced.

"Mayberry get down here now!" The alarm clock blares again. Mayberry sighs as she squats to get out of her room. Mayberry's eighty-nine-year-old knees begin down the stairs, and with each step down the steep ladder, and then down the stairs that lead to her attic bedroom, her knees complain. Mayberry Dotter's bedroom is in the attic of a house that should not have an attic. This sad brick house on 5 Grivet Drive was built without an attic.

And yet she somehow sleeps in one.

Mayberry almost makes it to the last step. But almost is the key word, because she slips and tumbles, the thin carpet on the wood floor the only thing to break her fall.

"Mayberry now! The bacon is not going to crisp itself," her Uncle Huckleberry's warm spit just barely hits the back of her neck. The thin protruding man does not even ask if she is all right.

"I'm sorry," Mayberry whispers as she picks herself up, she doesn't check to see if she's bleeding. Mayberry knows she is, but she also knows her bandage usage is up for the week. The numerous paper cuts she got when preparing the birthday invitations really emptied her bandage box.

"Don't I'm sorry _me_! Get your little bum in there missy and crisp that hog!" Uncle Huckleberry points towards the kitchen, his stick of a finger longer than most humans. Mayberry hates his fingers, they are always pointing at something she should do, wagging at things she had done wrong, or picking the man's rhinoceros-sized nostril.

Mayberry nods and scuttles away. "I swear your Aunt was right, we should have just let you sleep under the staircase!" She glances her head over at the closet below the stairs. The closet that is only enough space for two brooms, a dented dustpan, and twenty-nine spiders. She hates her not-really-an-attic room, but she is pretty sure sleeping under the staircase would be worse.

"Happy Birthday my beautiful daughter, the gorgeous Beverly!" Mayberry hears the over indulgence praise to her cousin even before she feels the vibrations of the heavy footsteps. Her cousin Beverly has bigger feet than her Uncles, and to add on to that, Beverly only wears thick three-inch black riding boots.

Her cousin's feet were ginormous.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

"Mummy where are my gifts?" the brash low-pitched voice of Beverly bellows down to the pace of her footsteps. Mayberry stays quiet and turns the bacon; all by making sure each side is crisp as a sunburned college girl. Last week the bacon was only spring break crispiness, and Mayberry does not want to have any other scolding about how it should be as crisp as a Delta Kappa Beta girl at the end of summer.

"Why your gifts! Here they are my stunning Beverly," Uncle Huckleberry's voice sounds more scared than a father's voice should.

"Yes, I see those but…"

Mayberry's right-hand gets a splash of bacon grease, she cries out. But the noise is thankfully overshadowed by Beverly's newest screech, "WHERE ARE THE OTHERS!"

Mayberry wipes her hand as she listens to her Uncle and Aunt try to abate their screaming mess. Beverly is in hysterics, the forty-two presents exactly one less than last year. Mayberry tries to remember the last time she had a present. _Her glasses? The stale yellow plaid shirt that sticks to her back? The new shoelace she got when the soles of her shoes ripped?_

Mayberry would not count any of these like the gifts Beverly gets. Last year, Beverly got a light-up stuffed rainbow puppy, the new shiny three-inch riding boots, the extra winter coat in case her other three got too hot, and an electric scooter with red stripes. Mayberry doesn't try to think about this as she prepares the rest of the birthday breakfast. She does not try to remember the way Beverly had thrown out the light-up puppy only three days later because the left ear was not bright enough as she settles the food on the plates. Mayberry makes sure her mind does not see the sad puppy tossed in the trash with a banana peel screwed on top of it.

"Took you long enough!" Beverly huffs as Mayberry places the plates down on the table. In the amount of time it has taken Mayberry to scramble seven eggs, perfectly sorority girl crisp nine bacon strips, slice a whole watermelon, and delicately arrange it all on the four plates, Beverly has ripped open all forty-two presents, gotten tired of nine, tried on and immediately decided to return seven, and gone through exactly two and a half of her temper tantrums. Needless to say, the morning was going quite swimmingly.

"Okay Mayberry," her Uncle begins the usual day plans between a mouthful of the eggs, "the neighbor should be by in a few to babysit," Mayberry nods, it is the weekend and she accustomed to old Mr. Caleton watching her. If watching her meant watching the tube, than yes. Uncle Huckleberry's fingers reach for another watermelon slice. "Don't look so happy Mayberry, you are going to miss all the fun," her Uncle grins and nudges Beverly's arm, Beverly ignores him as she continues to ravage the food, grease making her upper lip shiny, "as we enjoy a wonderful party-filled day at the zoo!"

Mayberry nods, she did not think she was smiling or looking happy about being babysat. She would have loved to go to the zoo, even with them. There was something about animals that made Mayberry happy. It could be that most animals at the zoo did not have parents, and so like her, were alone in the world. So when Mayberry saw a giraffe or a grizzly bear relax in the sun, it made her think she could too. If these animals could be happy living in cages, then there was hope for Mayberry.

"So while we are gone having the party-of-the-year, we need you to do the three loads of laundry, all the dishes, prepare dinner for tonight, I think we have a taste for-"

 _Rrrrrrrrrrriiiinnnnnngg._

Her uncle pauses listing off the extensive list Mayberry will be doing for the rest of the day. And probably for the rest of her life. Uncle Huckleberry huffs as he stands and paces towards the phone.

 _Rrrrrrrrrrriiiinnnnnngg._

"Oh god get it already dad!" Beverly covers her ears with her hands as she somehow continues to shove impeccably crisp bacon in her mouth.

"Alright, alright," Uncle Huckleberry reaches over and picks up the phone before another eruption ensues. " 'ello? Yes, this is…okay…no but she can't…how dead is...well if you have to...yes, okay."

 _Click._

Uncle Huckleberry's thin face turns the color of his name. "Well, I'm sorry to ruin your busy day Mayberry but it looks like Mr. Carleton's mother died, so he will not be able to come over and watch-"

Both her Aunt and her cousin scream in shock, their voices forming into one expressed sound of extensive annoyance. Like mother like daughter.

"So that means it looks like-"

"No!" Beverly interrupts.

"I'm sorry doll but we have no choice and on such late notic-"

"But she can't!" this time it's Mayberry's Aunt who cuts Uncle Huckleberry off.

"Honey, dear," he turns to both of them, his eyebrows falling low on his face, "it looks like," he turns and looks at Mayberry, he doesn't look at her clear blue eyes, instead he looks at her forehead, "it looks like there is no other option but to bring Mayberry along to the zoo."

Mayberry does not smile, even as her cousin begins to explosively bawl for the third time this morning. No, Mayberry keeps her lips slack and her eyes forward.

"Don't worry dearest, the day will still be brilliant!" her Aunt immediately begins to comfort Beverly as Uncle Huckleberry rushes towards the kitchen.

"I think it's cake time!" Uncle Huckleberry sings, his voice sadder than it should be as the refrigerator door opens.

Mayberry stays in her stiff chair and watches as her aunt and uncle comfort, sing, and stuff-with-cake her cousin. She doesn't open her mouth to add her alto voice to happy birthday, nor does she reach for a slice of the German chocolate cake she baked yesterday.

All Mayberry does is lift her hand to lightly touch her forehead. She pushes her fingers past the wall of bangs she has managed to grow over the years until her fingers graze the tiny scar. The scar on her forehead in the shape of a wobbly star.

The scar doesn't burn or tingle.

But for some reason, Mayberry's gut is telling her it will soon.


	2. The Mongoose and Mayberry

Mayberry Dotter's forehead hurt. Hurt would not be the best way to describe it. It was more of a pay attention pain. If Mayberry had a sore throat, she would swallow, if Mayberry had a bad tooth, she would suck, if Mayberry slept in a sleeping bag full of poison ivy, she would itch. And so, when her wobbly shaped star scar on her forehead burned,

Mayberry sweat.

Mayberry wiped well, not really her forehead, but she still wiped the sweat off her brow as she continued to step exactly five paces behind the Fudleys and their extravagant birthday party of thirty-nine. That is correct; Mayberry Dotter's horrible good-for-nothing cousin had thirty-nine kids come to her party. It was unbelievable that someone with feet larger than Uncle Huckleberry's could have thirty-nine kids RSVP. No, Mayberry almost slips on the slick zoo tile, she remembers bandaging forty tiny birthday card paper cuts on her fingers. She hurries to be exactly five paces behind them again. One kid did not come to Beverly's party.

Mayberry smiles.

"And this is the amazing carnivore house," the zoo tour guide's voice booms over the loud zoo house they just paraded into. Mayberry watches as kids start to complain about the smell as their stuffy fingers smack against their noses. Mayberry does not mind the smell; it's not even as bad as that time a bat died in her room. She found it three weeks after the smell actually started.

As Mayberry's nose tries to forget, her ears hear the clicking of cage opening. "Oh now this is exciting," the tour guide in a pink cap motions over to the second exhibit, "it looks like they're going to feed the mongoose."

 _Mongoose?_

Mayberry scurries over to the exhibit still exactly five paces behind the group. She can't see much, over the tops of heads she has to remain on her toes. One of the toes is still badly bruised from the time she was replanting the garden. The pain in that specific toe screams but Mayberry Dotter remains high. Something deep in her gut is telling her this is going to be good.

Her hot forehead agrees.

Inside the tiny cage with fake savannah wallpaper peeling off the white walls, a few rocks, and a shrimpy kiddie pool is a tiny animal with dirty tan fur. That's all Mayberry can really see even as she stops paying attention to her even warmer forehead.

 _Hissssssssssss._

A thick green snake is thrown into the cage by another person in a pink cap. It flops down, then beings hissing immediately, the slick body swirling in angry circles. The snake is larger than the one Mayberry saw in the garden last week. The one she had to run away from and incidentally the reason she stubbed said bad toe.

 _Haaackkkkkkkkkk._

The tiny patch of fur begins to bear its own teeth and make a sound like an evil cat. An evil caffeinated cat that found a chocolate mouse. The two animals begin to circle each other, the snake ten times larger and eleven times scarier than this tiny mongoose.

 _Did they mean feed the snake?_

No Mayberry, they most certainly did not.

The mongoose attacks, it shoots up from the ground it's white teeth baring. The snake swivels to the left, but not enough. The mongoose's teeth slice into the skull. Mayberry only knows it can be the skull from the crunch that erupts around the now silent party. Everyone in the room is transfixed by the tiny mammal.

The cracking of the skull ends as the snake plummets straight to the ground.

Dead.

The mongoose does not look up cheerfully, nor does it take a moment's breath, it immediately begins consuming the thick green and now red pool of a snake. The kids around her being to cheer and slap each other on the back. Many of the boys begin to complain about how gross it is and quickly scurry away. Mayberry stands there on her tiptoes and watches.

She can't take her eyes off it as the sweat from her scar rolls down her face.

"Okay ten minutes then meet back here for the tram ride to the penguin house," her Uncle Huckleberry's thin frame bounces in front of the mongoose. He waves his arms (which unfortunately include those wretched fingers) and the thirty-nine kids scatter into their usual groups.

Mayberry does not have a group.

As the boys who wear Nike socks with sandals march over to the cute red pandas, as the girls that only wear ponytails and the same sweatshirt everyday scurry to the strange hornbill, as the girls who only look at their phone remain looking at their phones, as her cousin points and laughs at some kind of cat, Mayberry drops down to her feet.

She approaches the mongoose exhibit.

Mayberry usually likes to read the information set out in front of the cages. The info that would say where the animals are from, how much of them is left, and when they will become completely extinct. But today, Mayberry doesn't. For some reason, as she steps closer to the thin glass, Mayberry cannot take her eyes off the tiny feral animal. The mongoose, with its tiny claws, skinny torso, and dirty fur, looks like the evil twin sister of a meerkat.

Or the dead zombie version.

Mayberry presses her forehead up against the cool glass. Her forehead immediately feels better, she almost sighs but stops when the mongoose turns in head and stares straight into her eyes.

Mayberry steps back.

The mongoose goes back to chomping on its well-deserved meal.

Mayberry steps forward, her scorching forehead back up against the cold gl-

The mongoose's black eyes stare at her again. Mayberry swallows. The eyes with black pits and thin yellow lines don't blink. The mongoose is frozen in shock, the snake bits drooling off its lips. Mayberry shoves her forehead up against the cool glass.

That's when the pain begins.

The pain erupts from her forehead the second the mongoose takes a step closer. The pain is hot and searing, like a chocolate chip pancake skillet left on the stove. Mayberry breathes through her mouth but doesn't look away. The tiny mongoose takes another step forward. Mayberry screams, or maybe she doesn't, she can't really tell, the only thing she knows is pain. Her forehead burns; she doesn't know what to do so she pushes it closer to the glass. The cool glass does nothing it just makes it worst. The mongoose takes another step closer. Mayberry pushes herself up against the glass. She feels herself about to s-

Mayberry plummets down. She blinks and sees the fake rocks and peeling wallpaper. She opens her mouth and tastes the dry dust and phony dirt around her. She begins to feel her skewed left foot, the lukewarm warm from the red kiddie pool crawling up her jean leg. Mayberry is not on the outside pushed up against glass

Mayberry is on the inside in a cage without glass.

A movement comes to her left and Mayberry's forehead screams. Mayberry winches and places her finger on it as she turns to the source of the pain. She stares straight into the black yellow eyes of the mongoose. Mayberry feels the pain, sees the red on the mongoose's lips and smells the stale urine in the corner of the cage. Mayberry also hears something. Something that she does not want to tell you she heard.

Because it would probably sound crazy.

But Mayberry will tell you anyway. "Thanks," the mongoose says. It's zombie state broken by the sweet voice that floods out its mouth.

"I umm…" Mayberry is in a cage, and talking to an animal so she is at a loss for coherent thought, "your welcome?" At least Mayberry is polite.

The mongoose smiles, the thin red lips peeling over its small skull. It opens the red lips and purrs like a large cat, "you know if you were a boy, this probably would not have happened."

Mayberry nods. Yes, if she were a boy she most definitely would not be in a cage talking to an animal.

"What I mean is...a boy would have made them," the mongoose's small skull nods over to Beverly and the party. Beverly is busy throwing popcorn at a lynx in a cage, "fall in the cage, not you."

Mayberry suddenly understands she is about to reply but the mongoose's tiny paw slowly waves. Mayberry lifts up her own arm as the mongoose turns it back then hops and scurries out the cage. Mayberry can't move even though her forehead pain vanished. She is frozen because her knee is bleeding for the second time that day, she just spoke and set free a mongoose and to top it all off, she was about to wave goodbye. Mayberry drops her hand.

"WHAT THE?" Mayberry remembers how to move as she hears her cousin's voice and the carnivore house come back to life. Screams and panic ensue as the world begins to realize where Mayberry is, and what isn't with her. "Mayberry you idiot!" Beverly screams.

Mayberry stands up.

Whatever just happened, Mayberry is very sure is not a one-time thing. This is just the beginning. One last sharp pain erupts from her scar. Next time, she is sure Beverly will get the bunt end of it. Because if this were a movie, Beverly would be the one in the cage.


	3. Mayberry gets an email

It all started with one email.

Ping.

Mayberry quickly closes the tab. She never gets an email. Actual email, mail that does not have to do with school, mail that does not have to deal with having breast enhancements or helping some princess in Nigeria. But this ping. Mayberry has never heard the computer make a noise like. Mayberry feels her cheeks flush. That sounded like actual mail.

Ping.

Mayberry looks around, she is only allowed fifteen minutes of free computer time every week. And that is only if she does not make any noise or interruptions. All Mayberry usually does in those fifteen minutes is search the web for cute animal videos. Today she had been searching for a mongoose video.

There are no cute mongoose videos.

Ping.

Mayberry pauses, her hand hot against the mouse, she thought she closed the tab. She reopens her mail.

3 new messages blare back at her face.

Ping.

4 new messages.

Mayberry cradles the mouse in her hand like a precious glass bowl. Not the precious bowl she dropped last week that got her zero computer time and a large cut down her hand. No, a precious bowl that she actually cared about.

Ping.

Mayberry knows she does not have much time left when something good happens to her, it usually only last for half the amount of normal kids.

Ping.

Mayberry looks at the sender. She picks her glasses off her nose; she wipes them with her sleeve. She reads the name again. Mayberry scrunches her eyes to make sure it's right. She reads the subject.

Ping.

Yes, she looks at them all. All of them, from the same address, with the same message. Congratulation Miss Dotter! From: enrollment .

Ping.

"Mayberry!" she hears the shrill shriek of her uncle. The laptop shuts immediately. She hears the footsteps of his feet, his feet still smaller than Beverly's. But somehow, today, at this exact moment, they sound louder than her monster crashes.

Ping.

Mayberry squeezes her fists together in her lap. She shuts her eyes and scrunches in. Maybe if he cannot see her he will leave her-

"Mayberry!" the footsteps stop. Mayberry keeps her eyes close, she tries to hunch her shoulders in closer.

Ping.

Mayberry opens her eyes. Her Uncle's face is inches from hers. His nose larger than a banana in the hand of the monkey leader. Uncle Huckleberry smiles. Mayberry feels her happiness melt away. Actually, it's more instant. Her happiness vanishes.

Ping.

"What is that?" his voice rises like the tornado siren, his smile still slick across his face. Mayberry freezes; she honestly does not know what it is. An email from a strange school? An email that is constantly being sent? No, Mayberry knows what it is. This is an email that she wants to open, that she wants to read. More than anything.

"An email for me?" Mayberry whispers. Her voice does not rise like a tornado siren; it falls like the moment after.

" _A_ email sent to you?" he booms, standing over her, his arms crossed over his chest. Uncle Huckleberry is not a big man, not even an average man. He is shorter, skinnier and weaker than most men at his ripe young age of forty-seven.

Right now, he feels like a giant.

Ping.

Mayberry doesn't answer, instead, she is thrown aside as Uncle Huckleberry sweeps her desk chair to the wall, and tears open the laptop. A black screen stares back.

"It's off," he says more to himself than Mayberry, Mayberry can still hear him. She knows it's off, the battery was only charged enough for her fifteen minutes, and that was sixty-three seconds ago.

Uncle Huckleberry reaches into the closest drawer, his hand rummaging for the charger. "I just don't know how you got those emails if it was-"

Ping.

Uncle Huckleberry takes a step back, almost colliding with Mayberry's chair. She is still on said chair; she has just scrunched into such a small ball that there is more chair than her.

"Huckleberry what is that awful noise?" her Aunt Virginia tight head pops in. Mayberry didn't that think she could go into a smaller ball. She can.

"This drastic laptop is receiving mail without any power!" Uncle Huckleberry's face turns the color of his name, well, everything but his nose. He grabs the black charger from the junk drawer and stabs it into the laptop.

Ping.

"That doesn't make sense," he mumbles. Uncle Huckleberry holds up the end of power cord freely in his hands. The end that is supposed to be connected to a power outlet. It is not.

"Plug it in!" Aunt Virginia runs over and grabs the cord from him, she immediately stabs it into the wall like a fork to a pig. Everyone turns their head to the laptop. It remains black.

Then a battery charger symbol blinks on.

No one breathes. The seconds feel like minutes, the minutes feel like hours, the hours feel like nights that never end. Mayberry does not think she can hold her breath any longer. She can.

"There, it must have just wanted power," her aunt's voice huffs like she could not believe that no one else knew how to plug in the charger. Mayberry does not answer. Uncle Huckleberry does not answer. They both know what's coming.

Ping.

"Mom!" Beverly's feet pound down the stairs, into the den and over to the desk. No one has moved. All eyes peeled on the laptop like it's a bomb about to jump off a ledge. "Bloody 'ell what is everyone just stupidly staring at? You all mental?" Beverly shoves her way through. Neither her aunt nor uncle correct Beverly on her inappropriate language, instead they both eye each other.

Mayberry has never seen the look on her Uncle's face. On the face that haunts her dreams and her reality. His blotchy red skin is…

Defeated.

"It's just a dead laptop!" Beverly shouts and points at it like she just discovered the Holy Grail. Neither her aunt nor uncle congratulate Beverly on her intuitive unearthing, instead, they turn their attention to the laptop.

Ping.

Aunt Virginia runs over, she pushes Beverly out of the way, Beverly yelps in alarm as Aunt Virginia rips the cord out of the wall, she grabs the laptop,

and chucks it out the window.

The sound of glass shattering clashes in Mayberry's ears, she unbinds herself from the makeshift ball. That was an expensive laptop. She pushes her glasses up back on her nose.

"What was that?" Beverly is not shouting. She is just talking; something that Mayberry never thought would ever happen. She imagined Beverly's voice never tiring from its usual wail. Big-footed Beverly forever screaming in class, screaming at home, and Mayberry imagined, screaming her wedding vows to some poor unfortunate soul.

"That was nothing you need to be worried about dear," Uncle Huckleberry reaches down and pulls Beverly up. He begins to coddle her making sure no scratches or cuts lay on her pudgy porcelain skin. "I think it's time we all-

Ping.

The three pairs of eyes turn to Mayberry. She feels her face flush, her hands sweat, and her heartbeat quicken. Mayberry feels her forehead burn.

Ping.

"That's it. Everyone pack your bags we're leaving!" Aunt Virginia shoves her way out the door as Beverly and Uncle Huckleberry follow. Mayberry stands, her legs wobbly and her head spinning. She walks closer towards the window, making sure to keep her skin safe from cuts, a new bandage box still not on the shopping list.

Mayberry peeks her head out at the black laptop massacred around the stone ground and bushes, the glass littered everywhere like a drunken raccoon garbage party.

But Mayberry is not looking at that. She is looking at what is on top of the millions of glass pieces and dead laptop.

On top is an owl.

Hoot.

Ping.


	4. Mayberry is 11

Mayberry Dotter was going to be eleven in exactly twenty-nine minutes. But she was not thinking about that, no, Mayberry Dotter was thinking about the 2,678,341 emails that were patiently waiting for her to read in her inbox. The inbox that until recently had only received 7 emails, 2 of which were not spam.

Ping.

Now the inbox had 2,678,342.

Mayberry remained curled tight in a ball. She was sitting on a strange chair, in a dark candle-lit room, with only her cousin for company. Her Aunt Virginia had grabbed their suitcases (4 for Beverly, 1 for Uncle Huckleberry and a tiny backpack for Mayberry) and stuffed anything she could grab with her claws into them. Then she shoved everyone in the van (her driving, Beverly in shotgun, Uncle Huckleberry with the spacious back seat, and Mayberry in the trunk) and sped exactly nineteen miles over the speed limit to a strange island. A strange island, with a strange dark candle-lit house, and a strange stuffy seat.

Ping.

They had no electronic which meant no phones, no laptops, no television, and no cameras. There was no microwave, no dishwasher, no washing machine and no air conditioning. Anything that needed a plug was not here. Mayberry could feel the sticky sweat of her back grab onto the strange stuffy chair. She was hot, her forehead, her legs, her arms, her everything. But Mayberry was not going to say anything.

"I'm hot!" her cousin was.

Mayberry did not say anything because she was too busy listening to her aunt and uncle in the other room. They were talking about her. Her...and this time it had nothing to do with the chores not done properly or the depressing aura she always gave off.

"She can't be like her father," Aunt Virginia's voice was rushed. Like she was spitting out the words before they choked her. They were choking Mayberry.

"She has to be," Uncle Huckleberry's shrill voice was low. She could just imagine his big-nosed face defeated in his hands. "There is no other explanation-"

Ping.

"That stupid email noise is proof enough! There are no electronics anywhere! Where is it even coming from?" Uncle Huckleberry's shrill voice was back. But she was not paying attention to it anymore; she was paying attention to Beverly.

Beverly had a phone.

"Beverly," Mayberry whispered, she undid herself from the tight ball. The legs and arms that had first seemed immobile, now wanting nothing more than space.

Beverly ignored her and paced in the middle of the strange candle-lit room. Her big feet still stomping around as her eyes zeroed in on the bright screen of the green phone. She was probably live tweeting this family vacation now.

"Beverly," Mayberry stood up, her feet solid on the ground. She was not hot anymore nor she scared of what was coming. Because Mayberry knew what she wanted.

"Huh?" Beverly barely glanced up from the green phone.

Ping.

"Beverly, I need to see that phone," Mayberry's voice was louder than she thought it could go. She did not blush, she did not glance away. No, Mayberry stood tall and looked Beverly in the eyes. "Give me that phone."

Beverly looked back and reached her chubby hand out. Mayberry walked over, her feet faster than she thought they could go. She saw the phone glisten in the strange candlelight. She reached her own scrawny hand out; her fingers grazed the slick metal-

The metal disappeared as Beverly pulled it out back towards herself. "Ha Ha! Got to be faster than that," her slick smirk spread exactly like her father's, the phone bright in her hands.

Mayberry did not have time to feel the heat of her forehead or the bright blinding power she felt speed through her body. She only had time to see the phone.

It dropped onto the floor.

As a large owl crashed through the screen. The owl bawled out of the tiny phone like it was a window to another world. The owl's gray wings broke through the air as it flew out and landed on the top of the strange stuffy chair. The exact chair Mayberry had moments ago been balled in.

Ping. Hoot.

Mayberry could still feel the power she had created, she turned her head, as another owl bawled out of the phone. This owl was whiter than snow and shined with a beak bright yellow. The owl landed on the fireplace.

Ping. Hoot.

An owl with dark brown feathers flew through the green phone, it wings almost brushing Mayberry's forehead. She did not move. Mayberry liked the way the owl stayed away from her like it was being polite. Mayberry watched as a fourth owl blacker than coal shot right for Beverly. Beverly wailed, her voice shriller than her father's, as she cowered in a tiny ball.

Ping. Hoot.

Ping. Hoot.

Mayberry stood in the center of the room as owl after owl, bird of prey after bird of prey erupted out of the tiny phone lingering on the wood floor. Beverly continued to howl, but her loud voice, for once was out-volumed by the events around her. The sound of emails arriving pinging. The sound of owls laughing hooting.

"What the 'ell!" Uncle Huckleberry was the first one to open the door, but that just made more owls shot out, propelling towards the larger room. Aunt Virginia shrieked just like her daughter, the tears spewing off her face like a broken drinking fountain. The three of them ran together into a small circle, a circle smaller than Mayberry had made herself.

Ping. Hoot.

Ping. Hoot. Ping. Hoot.

Pong (no it was a Ping). Hoot. Ping. Hoot.

Ping. Hoot.

The sounds were deafening, the air was full of feathers, and her forehead was burning fire. But Mayberry smiled. Mayberry pushed her glasses up on her nose; she took a deep breath out and stood taller than she ever had in her life.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Mayberry heard the three sharp pounds on the door to the strange island home in the strange candlelit room. It was not a strange sound. She knew what it was, she just did not know who was making it.

" 'ello?" A voice ripped through the bird haven. "Is someone gonna let me in or leave me out here in the pouring rain 'eh?"

Mayberry did not even know it was raining, but now, as the millions of owls around her and the email messaging signals quieted, she realized that the rain was pounding down worse than Beverly's feet.

Mayberry opened her mouth.

"NO!" Uncle Huckleberry stood up, his small frame did not look larger than life, it looked like it should. Smaller and weaker than death.

Mayberry closed her mouth. Uncle Huckleberry smiled thinking he still had power over Mayberry. But no, Mayberry closed her mouth to smile. She marched over to the door; she placed her steady hand on the warm golden doorknob and opened the door.

"Well took you long enough 'eh!" A woman larger than a mountain and only slightly skinnier than a tree rammed through the open door. Mayberry flew back, the sheer amount of woman and rain pelleting through the door was enough to make her wish she hadn't opened it.

Only a little bit.

"Where is she?" the woman turned around the room, Mayberry could only see the back of her hair in thick dark curls tumbling over a large leather jacket that was slick with water. "Not any of you lots," she pointed at the Fudley's tiny ball family form. "Where is that birthday girl?"

Mayberry swallowed, she had forgotten all about the time. She looked down at the tiny watch now shaking on her bony wrist. Mayberry Dotter was officially eleven.

"Me?" Mayberry squeaked. She used her shaky hand to point at herself, just as the mountain of a woman turned around.

"Mayberry Dotter," her face beamed, the bright smile wider than her bubbling cheeks, "of course it's you, your spittin' image of your mum," she knelt down, the coat and hair circling around her like a robe, "and have the eyes of your father."

Mayberry wished she had a mirror, that she could see her reflection immediately. She wanted to see it. See her mother; look into her father's blue eyes. But currently, Mayberry was looking into the sparkling eyes of a woman with more body that Mayberry thought possible. She still wished she had a mirror.

Only a little bit.

"Ummm…"

"Well, don't just stand there, give Hagrida a big ol' hug," she stretched her arms wide and Mayberry had nothing else to do but bound in. She could not remember the last time she was hugged. She could not remember a hug period.

The large embrace was wet and sticky, but it was warm and filled Mayberry up from the bottom of her sprained toe to the top of her matted head.

"Now that's the way you properly say 'ello to an old family friend," the large woman named Hagrida released her arms and took a large step back. It was properly only considered a small step for her.

"Family friend?" Mayberry asked she was cold the moment the warm embrace ended, even with the owls still restlessly hooting around her.

"Why of course Mayberry! I was the one that brought you to these fools that night…" Hagrida voice began to drop out.

"That night?" Mayberry pushed her glasses back up on her nose.

"The night your parents died 'aye," Hagrida knelt down, "but don't worry, today I am here for good news."

Mayberry hadn't heard anyone talk about her parents like this, like they were sorry they died. She wanted to hear more, but first, "good news?" she questioned.

"Only the best, here use my phone," Hagrida pulled out an old droid from one of her many pockets in the wet leather jacket. Mayberry held the dark sleek metal in her hands.

Ping.

Hoot. All the owls in the room sounded at the same time.

Mayberry's hand only shook a tiny bit as she hovered her thumb over the mail button.

"Just click it," Hagrida smiled again, "the message will be waiting for you."

Mayberry's hand stop hovering, it pressed down on the screen with the force of her forehead's heat. It swiveled over towards new message, it opens the one she had seen in her dreams, the one she had been waiting for.

The moment the email finally opened, an owl flew out of the phone. Mayberry stumbled back, but this owl did not widely hoot or dash to some corner of the room, it just politely dropped a crisp envelope into Mayberry's hands and dropped down onto Hagrida's shoulders. The android phone trashed down on the floor like Beverly's.

Mayberry peered up at Hagrida and the messenger owl.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Open it!" she sang, reaching down and picking the phone back up, placing it in one of the many pockets.

Mayberry ripped open the envelope, the crisp white paper littering to the floor. She reached in and felt the clean thick sheets; she pulled out the two pages.

Mayberry read it.

DOVEDIMPLE SCHOOL of WIZARDRY and WITCHCRAFT

Headmistress: Alba Dumbledore

(Order of Merlina, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Witch,

Supremess Mugwump, International Confed. of Witches)

Dear Ms. Dotter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Dovedimple School of Wizardry and Witchcraft. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Mars McGonagall

Deputy Headminister

Mayberry reads the email now a letter again.

And again.

And again.

"It's something ain't it?" Hagrida peeks over at Mayberry's eyes as she reads the first page for the fifth time.

"I think you have a mistake," Mayberry whispers. She whispers it, but everyone hears her.

"Yes you do!" Uncle Huckleberry bolts up out of his family circle.

"No, I don't!" Hagrida yells as she points a giant umbrella that Mayberry did not notice before.

"Oh, and what are you gonna-"

A bright light flashes through the room, Mayberry closes her eyes, but when she opens them, Uncle Huckleberry's thin frame is not there. Instead, a tiny kitten meows in his place.

Hagrida laughs engulf her from Aunt Virginia and Beverly's bloody murder screams.

"Your lucky I did not turn any of you into a hideous hog!" Hagrida screams as she directly points the umbrella at Beverly. Beverly cowers behind her mother, as Aunt Virginia cradles the Uncle Huckleberry cat in her arms.

"No please!" Beverly begins to cry and it's not a cry of a tantrum, it's the tears of fear.

Mayberry can't help but smile.

"Oh! I almost forgot something," Hagrida reaches into one of her numerous pockets and pulls out a double chocolate cupcake with a tiny candle on top, "Happy Birthday Mayberry! I was going to bring you a cake," she looks back at the Fudley's, "but something told me a cupcake would be better."

"Wow, um," Mayberry reaches for the cupcake but then realizes her tiny hands are still holding the letter, she does not want to let go. "What is happening?" Mayberry looks up at the mountain of a woman holding a mole of a chocolate cupcake.

"Happening?" Hagrida smiles, "Mayberry you mean these blasted idiots never told you?"

"Told me?" Mayberry asks.

Hagrida smiles, her large eyes brighter than the tiny flame on the tiny cupcake.

"You're a witch Mayberry."


	5. The girl who remains

Hello Everyone! Thanks for reading and for the comments, I have been really enjoying them all! (I hope Guest stays hydrated). Anyway, next chapter I need some suggestions, read on to find out:

Mayberry Dotter did not like the smell of alcohol, she hated it. It wasn't the obvious reason why, thankfully nobody she knew was a ravaging alcoholic. No, Mayberry Dotter despised the smell of alcohol, because it always reminded her of deep wounds she was constantly having to properly clean.

As Hagrida shoved open the ragged door to the pub, Mayberry's face was smacked sideways with a scent that she only associated with last summer's bike wound. The scar that was zigzagged up the left of her leg, almost like a lightning bolt. But nothing like the wobbly star on her head. Her little stunt as the town's newspaper girl had begun and ended that day.

"Hagrida!" voices in the pub boomed out mixing with the smell. Mayberry watched as the mountain of a woman's face brightened in the dark alley. As Mayberry's head cringed up, she also read the dirty sign, Almost Overflowing Cauldron. "What's everyone doing here!" Hagrida's voice dispensed through the alley and into the green lettering of the long sign began to shake as Hagrida's laugh bubbled through the alley.

"No one else got nothing better to do with their Saturday 'ey!" Hagrida yelled into the non-infected wound abyss.

Her dark eyes floated down and landed on Mayberry's small figure. Her booming laugh became almost a hiccup as her long hair hit Mayberry. Hagrida's fingers pulled out from beneath the hair robe and poked Mayberry in the arm, it was light and felt more like it came from a butterfly than a woman more suited for professional wrestling. "This will only take a second Mayberry, then we'll get to the fun stuff."

Mayberry nodded as she pushed her glasses up on her nose, "Yes, but Hagrida, I don't think I have any money-"

"I promise," Hagrida sang as she crossed her heart for the first time that day, her thick eyebrow flying up in excitement.

"Okay," Mayberry whispered even if she did not know what was going on. Even as her heart beat wildly in her chest, her feet stepped in. She had pinched her arm exactly twenty-nine times this morning, and every time she reminded herself she was not dreaming.

Mayberry Dotter was apparently a witch.

The Almost Overflowing Cauldron was darker than the alley but more hot and crowded, the smell of alcohol had married the scent of wet wood, which only made Mayberry cringe. She squeezed in closer to Hagrida's leg and tried to forget the scent of her wet leg after the Mongoose cage. The thought vanished as her eyes lifted up and peered around. These many people were something she had never been accustomed too. Especially when this many people were paying attention to her.

Was there something in her teeth?

"Hagrida," Mayberry murmured as she tugged on the woman's large leather jacket.

"Hmm," Hagrida nodded down as she continued on past the tables, stools, and people. People staring. Staring at Mayberry.

"Mayberry Dotter?" A cold voice breathed in her ear as a warm hand pushed out. The hand was long and weathered and stopped Mayberry's shaky feet.

"Mayberry Dotter...unbelievable," the cold voice came from the face of the weathered hand. The face was also weathered but had curly black hair and dangling earrings that sparkled with each word.

The pub silenced.

"Yes…." Mayberry's voice was the only sound in the pub.

Then there was nothing.

"Shit," a voice from behind her broke the silence. And when the silence broke, it erupted. Voices, hands, and faces began grabbing for Mayberry's attention. The voices shouted her name, the hands grabbed at her clothes, and the faces tried to meet her own.

"Hagrida!" Mayberry shouted, in the midst of the tornado of Saturday pub people. She reached her tiny arms out for the mountain woman but couldn't grab onto the leather. The people and voices were eating her alive.

BOOM!

As fast as the silence broke, it was able to fix itself. The voices, hands, and faces crawled back from Mayberry as Hagrid stomped the large red umbrella on the grimy wood floor.

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

Mayberry ran over towards the umbrella holder, the eyes of every pubber glued to her like the last cake in a bakery.

"Bloody 'ell! It's like none of ya have seen a child who defeated the dark lady before!" Hagrida huffed and slide the umbrella back into a random pocket of her jacket. "Have some respect will ya!" Hagrida nodded around the pub and eyed the lot.

Mayberry pushed her glasses up higher on her nose, she pretended not to hear what Hagrida said. Defeater of Dark Lady? Mayberry swallowed a lungful of air. She did not know what was more confusing, her defeating something, or a lady being dark.

Mayberry would need to pinch herself another twenty-nine times to believe this.

" 'ey Mayberry," Hagrida pointed over towards two stools near the bar, "let's plant our butts there for a few…" she began strutting over but then turned around one last time addressing the Almost Overflowing Cauldron, "and hope no one bothers us!"

They sat, the stool too small for Hagrida, and not tall enough for Mayberry. Hagrida had to lean next to the bar as Mayberry's head barely glance over. She could only make half of the people on the other side. So she turned her head and looked out at the pub.

Every face stared back.

Mayberry swiveled in her seat and tried to find something interesting to look at that wouldn't look at her.

Her blue eyes found a woman more focused on her drink than anyone else. She was the only one not looking at her. Mayberry smiled; maybe these other people at the pub were just-

The woman looked up and met the eyes of Mayberry just as her wobbly scar burned. Mayberry winched and her hand rocketed to her forehead as the woman's hands flew up to her dark purple hijab.

"Mayberry?" Hagrida looked down from her gold mug, "are you alright?"

"Yes…" Mayberry replied as she turned away from the woman. She twisted back to the pub of zombie fixed stares, where even if the drinkers were memorizing her every feature, none of them made her scar hurt.

"Ah, Professor Trembella," Hagrida's voice thundered in the close-to-silent pub.

"Haaaaaggridaaaa," a voice trembled.

Mayberry turned to see the-

She yelped in alarm as her forehead burst in pain.

"Mayberry!" Hagrida's butterfly hand landed on her shoulder.

"No, I'm fine," Mayberry whispered just as a glass of cold water plopped down. Mayberry reached for it and gulped the cool liquid that instantly made her feel less pain. And less like she was in a dream.

"Is….is…..is….she all...al..alright?" the voice stuttered out.

"Oh, yes, she is just...well, this is just all very new for her," Hagrida smiled at the woman as Mayberry tried to swallow more of the water. For some reason, the water felt dry. The woman in the dark purple hijab did not smile back. Hagrida's voice jumped up in surprise, "Oh! Where are my manners, Mayberry Dotter, this is Professor Trembella the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Professor Bella Trembella this is a new student Mayberry Dotter!"

Mayberry looked into the eyes of the woman no longer across the bar.

"Hello," Mayberry reached her arm out. She did not want to, but her politeness got the better of her.

"Hellllllllllll….oooooooooo" the woman replied but no hand reached out to meet her own. Mayberry's tiny arm retreated back into her side.

The woman still did not smile. Her mouth was just one long line of black.

"Hagriiiiii….daaaaaa, can I, can I sppppeak with you?" the woman motioned over to the other side of the bar. The side not near Mayberry.

"Mayberry this will only take a second, then we can go off and start your shoppin' " Hagrida beamed, she crossed her hands over her heart for the second time just before shuffling to follow the woman.

Mayberry took a deep breath and grabbed the almost empty water glass.

"Mayberry Dotter!" A voice belted behind her, Mayberry wobbled in her seat, spilling the rest of the water on the floor.

"Yes!" Mayberry shouted back in alarm regaining her balance.

"So it is you," the voice paused in amazement, the face of the dangling earring woman appeared to her side.

"Yes, hello, I'm Mayberry Dot-"

"-the girl who remains," the dangling earring woman did not let her finish as she stuck her weathered hand out and grabbed for Mayberry's. The hand felt more like a cardboard box than something with a heartbeat. It also had more rings than Mayberry thought was legally allowed on one hand.

"Excuse me?" Mayberry was very confused. The woman had called her something even more confusing than Hagrida, girl who remains where?

"It's true then…" the woman was ignoring her, Mayberry pulled her arm back immediately. She was not having very good luck with handshakes today.

"True?" her voice stumbled over the four letter word.

"You lived, " the woman's hand reached up and froze. Or maybe it did not freeze, maybe it just felt like it was frozen because it took Mayberry by surprise. Because the next thing she knew, the hand of the dangling earring woman swiped her bangs to the side.

And brushed her scar.

"Hey!" Mayberry quickly reached up and pulled her bangs back, but not fast enough.

The whole pub had seen her scar.

"You got the star scar to prove it!" the woman laughed her eyes brighter than the candles on the dirty tables. The rest of the pub cheered in amazement, the women patting each other on the back, their voices dancing in merriment.

Mayberry heard the heavy footsteps of Hagrida behind her as the woman with the dangling earrings ran back to her celebratory table.

"Sorry about that Mayberry," Hagrida's butterfly fingers touched her head, "ready now?"

Mayberry nodded and jumped off the too tall stool. At this moment, she would rather be anywhere else but here. She followed Hagrida over to the other end of the pub.

"What is...umm... why did Professor Tremble not want to talk to me?" Mayberry could not help but ask. She was a very curious girl and when people stare, whisper and try to touch her forehead, asking is the just the first step. She would ask about everyone else in the pub, but first, the inexplicable woman who did the exact opposite of everyone else.

"Professor Tremble wasn't always like that..." Hagrida's hand reached out and opened the back door of the Almost Overflowing Cauldron, "she's very smart, going to make a great teacher, but even since she went out on that research trip…" her voice falls for a second as they step into a tiny alley. An alley only meant for the trash and homeless. Mayberry follows Hagrida until they get to a dead end. The red brick stares back at Mayberry like Professor Tremble dark line of lips.

The thing was not going anywhere.

"She hasn't been the same," Hagrida finishes then smiles, "are you finally ready?"

"Ready?" Mayberry asks staring at the unmovable brick.

"Ya, I promised you things were going to get better," Hagrida crosses her heart for the third time, "and if there is one thing Hagrida is known for, it's never letting down promises."

She spits on the ground and reaches into a random pocket, pulling out the umbrella.

"Hagrida?" Mayberry's voice gets caught in the throat.

Hagrida places the umbrella over the brick, tapping three then four on the left, then one on the bottom.

"See?" Hagrida beams and turns.

"A brick wall?" Mayberry is suddenly more confused than she was ten minutes ago, and that's saying something.

"Ahhh," Hagrida grumbles, she tightens her grip on the umbrella, "they must have changed it wait one second," Hagrida taps two, then three on the right, then one of the top.

"There we go-" Hagrida's loud voice gets lost as the brick wall pulls away, the bricks move like they know a secret, they fall and vanish into the stone floor below like they have a race to finish.

Mayberry stares out.

At not at a brick wall anymore.

A colorful and vibrant street screams for her attention.

She is suddenly more confused than she was ten seconds ago.

Okay, what should Malfoy's female counterpart name be? Does anyone have a good idea for a specific animal feather that is in Mayberry's wand? Let me know if you got any good ideas below!


	6. Haidron Alley Part I

Happy Monday (ugh) but what makes Monday better? A new Mayberry Dotter! This is part I of her journey through Haidron Alley, let me know what you think below! I love suggestions. I am right now looking for a good feather to put in Mayberry's wand (RubberDucky I don't think a duck feather is powerful enough, but thanks for the idea) Anyway…enjoy Haidron Alley.

* * *

Mayberry Dotter was trying not to stare. She wants to make it very clear, very very very clear that she was trying hard not to stare at the two-foot tall wrinkled woman leading her and the mountain of a woman Hagrida down through a dark tunnel. Mayberry Dotter was trying very hard, she just wasn't succeeding.

"This way please," the two-foot tall woman motioned with the lantern dangling from her wrinkled hands. Mayberry hurried her feet faster, the tiny mess of hair in front of her could really move.

"Kind of fun how your voice echoes in this!" Hagrida laughed her hands clutching her thick leather jacket. "Echo!" she wailed as they passed another large door that had another important thing locked inside.

"Hagrida I don't think-"

"Echo!"

Mayberry shut her mouth, after everything that has happened so far, the least she should expect would be an echo louder than the original scream in the dark tunnel they were currently stumbling through.

"Please don't do that," the two-foot tall woman, apparently a goblin, mumbled back. Her voice was the kind of voice Mayberry had only assumed bored librarians mustered, that, or fully dead zombies.

Mayberry raised an eyebrow at Hagrida, the mountain woman's booming laugh was the next thing to loudly echo through the corridor.

"713. Stop here please," the goblin woman with thinning white hair and ears that would make a bunny jealous plopped the lantern down in front of another identical door to another identical secret hidden behind it. This was the seven hundred and thirteenth they had seen today. Mayberry was beginning to think they were never going to stop. Mayberry abruptly halted, her sneakers squeaking against the dirty stone floor, and Hagrida's boots behind her resounded in anticipation.

"Key please," the goblin's arm stretched out, Mayberry made sure not to stare. Made very very very sure she did not stare at the hands that were smaller than a doll's but scarier than Uncle Huckleberry's long fingers. Mayberry shivered, she would not have to worry about those specific fingers anymore.

"Ahh one second," Hagrida rummaged around in her enormous leather jacket. The goblin huffed and Mayberry's swears she saw the ear's lower. Hagrida laughed again her hands stuffing into more pockets than Mayberry thought possible. "Ha! I swear it's here," Hagrida quickly whipped off the jacket, turning it around and lo and behold, her hands stuck into another million pockets.

"Please hurry," the goblin's voice was not assumed, it was like she was telling a toddler to stop smiling. The two-foot tall women's shiny black shoes began to tap like a ticking time bomb.

Just before the goblin exploded, Hagrida smiled and pulled out a shiny gold key from pocket number six hundred and fifty-two. "Ha! Next time I will have to write myself a note!" She cradled the key; in her giant hands, it looked the key to some Barbie Dreamhouse. But when placed in the goblin's hands, looked like the key to Oprah's Summer Mansion. Not that Mayberry knew what either key really looked like.

She never had a Barbie, nor never visited Oprah during August.

"If you write yourself a note, then you'll lose the note in those pockets!" the goblin clutched the key like it was the only real thing in the corridor. Her bloodshot eyes glared at the woman at least four hundred times her own size.

Mayberry tried not to laugh, and she was glad she didn't because the next thing she knew the key was jabbed into the middle of iron door number 713. In an iron door larger than Mayberry's entire not-quite-an-attic bedroom. The key clanged into place as the iron bars shooting out of the door moved. Their intricate pattern shifted away, the door becoming iron snakes; their thin bodies slithering towards the encompassing stonewall. Mayberry's jaw dropped, she had never seen a door move, or disappear like an animal more suited for jungles.

Mayberry was about to close her mouth. She was trying very very very hard to close her mouth. But she couldn't because the next thing she knew the snakes slithered away, and she was staring at the hidden secret of door 713. She was staring at the reason they had arrived at the largest bank she had ever seen, controlled by Halloween-like people, taken under the strange world below, and through the sewer river like she was a rat. The hidden secret behind door 713 was worth it.

"This can't be all mine?" Mayberry's plastered open mouth made her voice sound louder than she had intended. She had wanted herself to shock whisper, the kind of voice that no one hears. The goblin's bloodshot eyes glared at her. Hagrida's hugging eyes only peeled farther open.

"Why Mayberry, you thought your parent's left you nothing?" Hagrida laughed, stepping into the vault that had more coins and shiny metal than Mayberry thought one vault should hold. That one person should have.

Mayberry could not answer Hagrida's question, she had never thought about her parent's leaving her something. And this...Mayberry's hand floated above a stack of gold coins...this was something.

"Why didn't I know I had this?" she squeaked. The goblin only rolled her eyes and stepped back into the corridor, as far away from them as physically possible.

"You could not use it back at your Aunts," Hagrida smiled, Mayberry raised an eyebrow at Hagrida, "because it's witches money and ain't no good in that blasted puggle world!"

Mayberry smiled. There was that funny word again, puggle. A person without magic. And then the other funny word, witches. Because Mayberry was a witch.

"Go ahead take it," Hagrida's butterfly hands pushed her gently in the back. Mayberry stumbled forward almost knocking a tower of coins over. For once in her life, an inanimate object didn't hurt Mayberry; instead, Mayberry reached out and grabbed a coin.

It felt lighter than she expected.

But just as exciting as she hoped.

* * *

"I hope you know your way around here!" Mayberry tried to reach out for Hagrida's coat but again got shoved further back in the alley. Mayberry pulled her hand out longer. This was not really an alley like they had back home; Haidron Alley was more like a crowded shopping street right before Christmas.

Mayberry grunted as she reached one more time...got it. Her fingers latched onto the leather as she pulled herself to pass the millions of people in dark robes, high hats, clutching funny packages. Haidron Alley did not look like a street before Christmas; it looked more like a street on Halloween Night.

"Here we are!" Hagrida's heavy steps suddenly stopped and Mayberry could not catch herself in time. She knocked into her giant boots and tumbled down on the ground.

But she still didn't get hurt.

"Oh come on up there Mayberry!" Hagrida reached and pulled her back to standing.

"Sorry," Mayberry mumbled, wiping the dust and a few loose broomstick stems? off her pants.

"Nothin' to be sorry 'bout," Hagrida chuckled as the millions of diverse people whipped past, "I bet this is all so new." She smiled one of her openhearted smiles.

Mayberry nodded, Hagrida had no idea.

"What's that first one on your list?" Hagrida's finger landed on the crumpled sheet Mayberry was clutching. It was the second part of the letter. Yes, the letter. She had not purposefully crumpled the crisp page, she had just read it so much that the sheet had begun to deteriorate. Not the words though. In her head, the letter remained as crisp and new as ever. Mayberry did not need to look down, she had the list memorized.

"First thing, an official DoveDimple robe," she replied, her voice steady.

Hagrida smiled, "well here we are."

* * *

Mayberry opened the door to a store she did not know how to pronounce, Gwalfigie and Gegging's? Giwilfatt and Getting's? Mayberry tried every combination that might make sense in her head. The thing was, none of the combinations seemed plausible.

"Welcome to Gwilfigg and Gagging's!" the only plausible solution announced as she stepped into a store with more clothes than she thought anyone would need. Anyone should need. Mayberry smiled and looked around trying to find the person for the voice.

There was no person.

"'Ello!" Hagrida bellowed down the shop that looked larger than she had expected. Mayberry shivered in her t-shirt, and colder.

"Be right with you!" A voice sang back from behind the stacks and stacks of robes. There were black robes, red robes, blue ones with yellow stripes and green ones with sparkles. Mayberry reached her arm out, but this time, she did not need Hagrida to tell her to touch it. Mayberry's hand swirled over the velvet robe in front of her. It was softer than three of her bedsheets back in the not-quite-an attic.

"You know they don't have service like they use to," Hagrida paced around the store as Mayberry followed, her fingers dancing across the thin silks, pillowy cotton and scratchy wool. She didn't answer.

"They use to fit you in a robe the moment you waltzed in!" Hagrida reached her arms out, showing her excitement and knocking over twenty robes. "Oh!" she knelt down, beginning to pick them up.

"Don't touch those please!" the voice from behind the stacks called out.

Hagrida dropped them, "even if they don't have the customer service…" she glared, "they still have their arrogance." She stood back up, placing her hands in two of her numerous pockets. Mayberry did the same, even if she only had the two pockets to choose from.

"May I help you?" Mayberry swirled her head to the right. The woman speaking had more make-up than a drag queen and at least seven tape measures around her neck.

"We got a new DoveDimple student!" Hagrida poked Mayberry in the side; she smiled, trying to very hard not to stare at the flying pile of sewing needles behind the woman. The bright red pincushion was just above her ear like it was a bird waiting for its meal.

"Great, another one," the woman reached her arms out and before Mayberry could try to say no, the woman pushed her through the stacks and back towards three large platforms with funhouse large mirrors around them.

"Take a stand, and I will fit you in a moment," the woman's voice smelled like ketchup and hit Mayberry's skin like the acidic contaminant. She nodded and stepped up onto the wooden platform.

Mayberry Dotter was again trying not to stare. She was trying very very very hard not to stare at herself in the triple floor length mirror. Even if Mayberry Dotter was again trying very hard, she still wasn't succeeding.

Mayberry Dotter had dark hair that she had mulled into a ponytail; the curls and strands were becoming more like a wild horse than the show pony she was going for. Her round glasses were broken in middle and with the bandage, she had wrapped around made her large blue eyes looked only bigger. Mayberry tried to smoothen her wrinkled t-shirt and tried to wipe the bank dirt off of her only pair of jeans. It didn't seem to matter. Whatever Mayberry Dotter did or was doing, only made her look more helpless. Mayberry Dotter tried to smile.

Her lips in the reflection just didn't move up.

"Wow, please don't tell me you're here for a robe?"

Mayberry's view changed to the triple floor length mirror next to her.

And the bright white blonde girl's reflection on it.

"Um...yes," Mayberry mumbled, she tried to turn back to her own reflection, but there was something about the girl's jarring white hair perfectly straightened, or the slick way she stood in the mirror that kept her watching.

Or the fact that she was smiling.

"Please don't tell me you're here for a robe for the new school year."

Mayberry nodded. The white hair's girl lips began to slowly drop.

"Please don't tell me you're going to-"

"DoveDimple," Mayberry finished. She told the girl exactly what the girl told her not too.

"No," the one word was more like a slap to the face than a baby's first word.

"Yes," Mayberry replied, then, like the very polite girl she was, stuck her hand out, "I'm Mayberry Dotter I hope-"

"Mayberry Dotter," her voice was the sound of a train coming to stop, but then deciding to miss the station. Mayberry tried not to winch. She kept her hand out.

"Yes, I was just hoping to meet a friend before-"

"We are not friends," the white blond hair woman twirled around, so instead of the reflection, she was staring at the real thing.

And the real thing was so much worse.

"I am Draca Talfoy. You are Mayberry Dotter-"

"Yes I-"

"I am from a pure-blood line of powerful witches. You are from a long line of weak losers."

"But I was jus-"

"I am going to be a powerful witch just like my mother, and her mother and hers. You are going to be just like your mother…," the white blond girl was shorter than Mayberry. Mayberry only knew this because the girl had marched over towards her platform with every syllable. The girl's smile was whiter than a new piece of paper and sharper than the paper cut that would follow. Mayberry knew what Draca was going to say next, she knew it and even so it still hurt.

"…Dead."

Mayberry could feel the pain in her forehead rocket through her mind. The girl known as Draca Talfoy jumped off and marched back towards her own platform just as the flying pincushion and the woman with the seven tape measures scuttled back in. Mayberry pushed her hand up to her forehead.

It was hot again.

"Here is the other color you wanted Draca," the woman held up a robe darker than the night sky. Mayberry did not think black was a color. And as she glanced at the robe she still didn't change her mind.

That black was too dark to be a color.

"Wonderful, wrap it up with all my others, I do need to get going, mother will be worried," Draca snapped as the tape measure woman immediately began to follow her towards the door. Mayberry could feel her forehead burn; she could feel the feeling like at the zoo. The feeling like at the pub and now, instead of winching, Mayberry took the burn.

Mayberry felt the pain of the words the white blonde girl said. She wrapped it together. She squeezed it in. Mayberry looked at the white blonde girl's back.

As a kick me sign appeared.

Mayberry was not surprised about this sudden appearance of the paper; instead, she turned back to her mirror.

This time, Mayberry was not trying very hard to stare at herself. Because she was trying very hard to. To stare at her chaotic ponytail, her rumpled t-shirt, her jeans that were going to be too small in a few months. Mayberry pushed the words of the Draca out of her mind. Instead, she stared at her huge blue eyes.

Mayberry Dotter was now a witch.

She was not going to let anyone ruin this new life.

This time, her lips in the reflection moved up.


	7. Haidron Alley Part II

Hello again everyone! I am excited to bring another chapter of Mayberry Dotter, the Haidron Alley Part II. I finally figured out the new feather, thank you for all the great suggestions (love the peacock) they really got my mind going. I decided on a Benu, a mythical Egyptian bird that was the original phoenix…yay! Next time we should be able to meet the girl version of Ron, let the suggestions for Ron's counterpart keep coming in. (I also love Percy Jackson guest reviewer) So anyway, read on!

* * *

Mayberry Dotter's face was squished against the glass. This was not like at the zoo where a tiny beast able to mull a snake enthralled her vision. No, this time Mayberry Dotter's broken glasses vision was controlled by a broomstick.

Not just any broomstick.

Mayberry was gazing at the FireBullet 3000, a broom with slick wooden edges, crisp dark red straws and a golden spiral looping around the handle. Mayberry Dotter knew brooms; she knew them very well, after spending more time sweeping her Aunt's house than playing outside in the green grass. And therefore she was confident in believing this, _the FireBullet 3000 was not just any broom_.

Mayberry didn't notice the other kids gaping around her, if she did, if she just turned around, Mayberry would have seen a bright red haired girl. A girl that was also wide-eyed amazed at the sparkling broom in the window.

But neither of them noticed the other.

"Mayberrrrrrry!" Hagrida voice was the only thing that made Mayberry remember where she was. She turned to the left (the red haired girl was on the right) and smiled as she saw Hagrida lumbering towards her.

"I got the book!" Hagrida held up a large bound book that shined through the dark alley. Mayberry squeezed her way past the millions of other kids staring at the broom that was unlike any normal broom.

"Perfect thanks," Mayberry took the bright purple book from Hagrida's butterfly hands. _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ by Newlyn Scamandar was donned in animals Mayberry never knew existed. The book was covered in a large bird that had a head of a lioness, a smiling rodent with three eyes, a long twisted reptile with colorful spikes, and even a dinosaur-like creature that's sharp teethed mouth exploded with a cloud of snow. Just like the FireBullet 3000, Mayberry couldn't look away.

"It was the last one and I had to wrestle a few to get it!" Hagrida reached over and opened the orange backpack Mayberry had on. This was the last book she needed on her list. Mayberry never considered herself strong, but as she walked around with eight large books and no ache in her shoulders, Mayberry couldn't help but feel powerful.

Little did she know the bag was spelled.

Mayberry slid the newest and last book in between her two other favorites. The green book that smelled like dirt, _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ by Philip Spore and the black with shades of silver text _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ by Bella Trembella. Mayberry couldn't help sliding her hands over the silver lettered words and each time getting tiny goose bumps on her arm.

"Have your eye on the old FireBullet 'ah?" Hagrida raised her eyebrows as her long curly hair danced around. Mayberry nodded. "Of course you would, that there is the best broom around!" She laughed as Mayberry pushed her glasses back up onto her nose. "But that there will take all the money in yar pocket!" Mayberry could feel the coins in her pocket jingle along with Hagrida's laugh. The coins that had slowly diminished as the shopping day drew on.

Hagrida and Mayberry had only taken a tiny portion of the coins hidden in vault 713. There were the larger golden Spat coins, the medium sized silver Takles, and the smaller bronze Qents. They were printed with the Hrindhot's Bank signature and a few symbols that she couldn't comprehend. Mayberry still had no idea what each was worth. All she knew was that they felt colder than any money she had touched at home.

"I think that was the last of your list," Hagrida was looking down the end of the alley, where more people looking more different than the rest keeping flying past.

Mayberry reached into her other pocket, where the letter was. Yes, still _the_ letter. She did not tug the sheet out, she didn't need to. Mayberry already knew there was one more thing she needed.

She already had the 3 sets of plain robes. Mayberry made extra sure not to buy the same colorless black that horrible girl Draca had. The coins had gotten her a pointed hat, a pair of gloves that felt thicker than Hagrida's leather jacket, and a winter cloak that was warmer than anything Mayberry thought existed. She always hated winter, but now couldn't wait for the wind to blow.

Mayberry also bought a cauldron she could fit her head into, a set of crystal phials that only looked like they were made for those fancy celebrity endorsed perfumes, a brass scale that made her feel like an old time scientist, and telescope that was probably the coolest thing she had every squeezed her eye against.

Mayberry felt like all those birthdays where she never got a present were now finally happening.

Mayberry knew the list by heart, and so, even though the myriad of coins in her pockets were lighter that her backpack, Mayberry did not agree with Hagrida. There was still one more thing she needed.

"Hagrida, I think I need a wand," she pointed to the tiny shop directly in front of them.

Hagrida smiled, "of course you do Mayberry Dotter."

* * *

Mayberry opened the creaky wooden door to Ollivandar's without hesitation. She now fully believed she was a witch. And everyone knew, even accident-prone Mayberry Dotter, that no one can be called a true witch.

Without a wand.

She paced towards the front desk. Well, the only desk. Ollivandar's "Makers of the Finest Wands since 381 B.C." was smaller than Mayberry's not-quite-an attic bedroom. The only things in the store were shelves upon shelves upon shelves full of shoe-sized boxes.

Mayberry could only guess what the shoe-sized boxes hid.

"Excuse me?" Mayberry's inaudible voice echoed up the shelves upon shelves upon shelves. Hagrida had run off to do some other errand, which left Mayberry alone, and terribly horribly shy.

Mayberry stepped closer to the desk, it was covered in cups of old tea, sheets of tea stained paper and boxes halfway opened also cloaked in tea. The only thing that wasn't tea covered was the brass bell at the front. Mayberry took a breath in.

And rang the bell.

"Hello!" A woman popped out behind a stack. She had hair messier than a windstorm and glasses more broken than Mayberry's. She also had a chain of lively necklaces and the kind of voice that made Mayberry instantly crave a scone. Because a scone is the only acceptable snack to munch on when you're listening to a crazy story.

"Hello," Mayberry tried to stand up straighter, the woman's eyes were circling around above her like she couldn't see Mayberry's own broken glasses stare.

"Hello?" the woman's voice ran around the store like a crazed dog excited for a walk.

"Hello!" Mayberry jumped up.

"Oh," the woman's hands flew up to her chest, "oh I am so sorry I did not see you," she began to laugh and knelt down to properly meet Mayberry's blue eyes.

"I am here for a wand," Mayberry swallowed her nerves and spoke the loudest indoor appropriate voice she could.

"Why yes you are Miss Dotter," the woman's smile was also tea stained but just as ebullient as Hagrida's. Her wide eyes shone pale through her broken glasses like two twin moons in the sky.

"You know me?" Mayberry hands instantly flew up to her forehead.

"Everyone knows you, dear," the woman stuck her hand out, "I am Ms. Ollivandar," Mayberry reached her own hand out, thankfully enjoying the first proper handshake she had all day, "I am just one of the long line of wand makers but I can assure you one thing," she dropped her hand as one of her moon eyes winked, "I am the best."

Mayberry laughed, she instantly wished this Ms. Ollivandar was her Aunt Virginia. That would have made her childhood a whole lot more exciting.

"Now back to wanding!" Ms. Ollivandar turned towards the stacks of stacks of stacks. "Let's Ms. Dotter the perfect wand shall we?!"

Mayberry's hands began to twitch; more excited than she ever been in her entire eleven-year-old and one day life. Sweat began to bubble on her forehead and the sudden need to pee became apparent. Mayberry gulped. She was finally going to become a true witch.

"Here we go," Ms. Ollivandar appeared three seconds later, a box with more dust than a closed library clutched in her hand. The woman who smelled like Darjeeling tea opened the box and pulled out a long light brown wand. "This is a 12" cherry wood, unicorn hair, here," Mayberry reached out, "try it."

Mayberry took it, the wand sending a cold shock of energy through her arm. She held it up.

"Well don't just hold it like a puggle!" Ms. Ollivandar laughed, "Give it a wave!"

Mayberry didn't need to be told twice. She flicked the wand to the left.

As a stack of boxes crashed to the ground.

"Whoa!" Ms. Ollvandar's grabbed the wand from Mayberry faster than the bright spark that had just seconds earlier erupted out of it. "That is not the wand for you dear."

Fifty-two seconds later Mayberry held another wand. " 10" walnut, dragon heartstring." Ms. Ollivandar clutched her hands together in anticipation. "The dragon might be what you need-"

Mayberry waved the wand.

As a bitter wind rocketed Ms. Ollivandar three feet in the air.

"NO!" Ms. Ollivandar screamed as she plummeted to the ground.

"Sorry," Mayberry gently placed the wand back on the desk, as the now crazed moon-eyed wand maker stood up.

"Don't be sorry…I have no idea what I was expecting with that one, maybe you would be better with-"

A full three minutes and two seconds later Mayberry was holding a much longer whiter wand.

"13¾" birch wood veela hair," Ms. Ollivandar paused, "wait one second." She knelt down behind the desk. "Okay go!"

Mayberry waved the wand, the wood burning her palm. She immediately dropped it on the floor.

It burst into a flame. The fire bouncing off the ground and whipping at her face.

"Stop!" A flume of cool water shot out from the base of Ms. Ollivandar's own wand diminishing the flame. And destroying the wand.

Mayberry looked down at the floor where only a crumple of ash laughed back.

"Oh don't worry dear, that wand was made by my sister anyway!" Ms. Ollivandar's voice was coming towards one of the farthest stacks. Apparently, a wand bursting into flames was a totally normal thing here.

One minute and twenty-nine seconds later Mayberry was holding another wand lighter than the past few. "10 ⅕" willow wood, phoenix feather." Instead of crouching behind her large desk, Ms. Ollivandar was standing ready with her own wand outstretched. The wand maker nodded.

Mayberry waved it.

Nothing happened.

She smi-

The slew of books on the front desk scattered in the air. The tea stained pages raining down.

"There has to be one somewhere!" Ms. Ollivandar voice echoed off the pages.

Twenty minutes later, Mayberry Dotter still did not have a wand. Don't get her wrong; Mayberry had tried, she held another five wands. With each wand, either it be the shortest 9 ¼ " or the largest 14", the white hippogriff hair or the multi-colored peacock, none of the wands worked. A few didn't even muster the courage to react; the others shooting a torrid of wind down on the stacks of wands. Thankfully, the door and window of the store remained intact.

Little did Mayberry know, the windows and door were spelled.

Mayberry pushed the wand that was more green than brown back into Ms. Oillvandar's hands.

"I don't think there is a-"

"Wait," Ms. Ollivandar dropped the box not caring that it shattered to the floor. "I wonder…." her voice trailed off as she paced in the back, behind the stacks of stacks of stacks.

Four minutes and forty-three seconds later Mayberry still remained standing without a wand in her hand. The thoughts in her head were more belittling than she usually allowed herself. None of the wands were working, when she touched them all, it felt more like pan out of the oven than a magical powerful tool. They all made her feel like the old Mayberry.

Mayberry sighed; she didn't know what she was expecting. Actually, wait, she did. Mayberry wanted a wand that made her feel confident, that made the reflection in the mirror smile. The new Mayberry.

"Try this one," Ms. Ollivadar's hand appeared out of nowhere. A wand that was more gold colored than all the others peeked out. Mayberry swallowed a lungful of air, pushed out those negative thoughts, and grabbed the wand.

The world around her stopped.

An energy lighter than Hagrida's butterfly hands but more powerful than the burning in her forehead spread through her body. The feeling was like a deja vu dream that she never knew she wanted. That she never knew she had the courage to need. Mayberry's lips slowed pulled up.

This wand felt right.

"Try it," Ms. Ollivandar whispered, the store as quiet as the moment before a storm.

Mayberry flicked the wand to the left.

As a sparkling of light erupted out. The soft yellow light blossomed around the room, filling the stacks, circling the boxes and kissing her on the cheeks. The light filled every inch of every spot; it filled the room with the energy in a friend's laugh, of embracing warm hug, the bark of a tiny puppy and…yes Mayberry is going to say it…everlasting love. Mayberry's smile grew. She felt herself laugh. She felt herself feel…

Powerful.

The light gave one last breath of energy then simmered out, like a flame more tired than empty. It slowly left the room and Mayberry instantly felt colder, her body missing the sweet light her wand had created.

"Interesting," Ms. Ollivandar's voice broke through the sudden darkness.

"Excuse me?" Mayberry clutched onto the wand, she was not going to let go of it now.

"Miss Dotter, that wand…" she points, "that wand is an 11" Ebony wood masterpiece."

Mayberry looked down, the golden wand still sparkling in her hands.

"That wonderful wand has a feather of a Benu," Ms. Ollivandar's voice was suddenly lower, but Mayberry could still hear it and feel it, the words of the finest wand maker twisting her stomach, "the Benu bird that only gave two flame-colored feathers."

Mayberry's forehead began to burn.

"One feather you are currently holding...and," Ms. Ollivandar's pale moon eyes closed, "the other feather gave you that scar."

Mayberry wasn't expecting anything less.


	8. Platform Nine and One Quarter

Happy Tuesday all my Mayberry Dotter lovers! I was able to write another chapter, hope you enjoy it, and remember I absolutely love to read your comments, so keep them coming! Thanks for all the ideas for Ron's name. I ended up choosing Veronica because that is the name of one of my friends and we just call her Ronnie! So it kind of goes. I still need one for Hermione and I have a question at the end that I need help with. On with the story!

* * *

Mayberry Dotter had a tiny slip of paper in her hand. The tiny slip of paper was a train ticket. A train ticket that Mayberry Dotter didn't think she could let go of. She had been able to let go of the rest of her cold coins she had when they finished shopping, she had been able to let go of Hagrida's leather jacket when Hagrida said she had to leave her at Aunt Virginia's, Mayberry had even been able to let go of the letter (yes, the letter) when Beverly had found it and ripped it to shreds. Mayberry Dotter had been able to let all of that go. But for some strange reason, she could not let go of her ticket.

The ticket on the DoveDimple Express.

"Well, what platform am I dropping you off!" Uncle Huckleberry's voice was high and ripped Mayberry's eardrum to shreds. She was in the way back of the van, her Aunt Virginia and Beverly didn't come to say goodbye (Mayberry was not surprised), so Mayberry was able to sit in the backseat. She fidgeted with the seatbelt around her neck, Mayberry was not used to seatbelts. They suffocated her neck much more than she thought they should

"Mayberry the platform!"

The car brakes slammed, and Mayberry found what the seatbelt was actually good for. She didn't hit the seat in front of her; instead, the felted belt crushed her neck.

"Mayberry Dotter!" Uncle Huckleberry's long fingers reached out and snatched the tiny slip of paper out of her tight fist of a hand. Her fist was apparently not as tight as she had thought.

"Umm...I think I have to go to-" she began just as Uncle Huckleberry looked down at the tiny slip of a train ticket.

"Platform nine and one quarter!" His voice shrieked.

"Yes...umm...I was going to say that-"

"There is no such thing as a platform nine and one quarter!" Uncle Huckleberry's voice was once again the red of his name. His arms wailing around but luckily his own felt seatbelt keeping him from reaching her.

"No, there is, there has to be a 9 and ¼. It says so on my ticket," Mayberry tried to reach for the ticket in his tight fist, "Hagrida said it was between 8 and 9, a little left of the middle" Mayberry pointed at the tiny slip of paper still in her Uncle's horrible nightmare creating fingers. Her own felt seatbelt was also making it hard to reach him.

"Yes I can read Mayberry, I know it says 9 and ¼!" He swiveled around in the seat and faced forward, "this doesn't exist! I knew your Aunt Virginia was right all along. You are just as crazy as my no good brother!"

"My father was good. Hagrida said my father was a powerful wizard-"

"And that large giant woman ha!" Her Uncle threw the tiny slip of paper in the air, Mayberry stayed still as she watched it recklessly sail through the air of the van, "This is ridiculous, this is all ridiculous, I am turning this car around, we are driving back home. We are going back to 5 Grivet Drive!"

Mayberry stuck one of her hands out.

"We are going back and you are staying there. Forever!"

"-but" Mayberry grabbed the tiny slip of paper, she immediately slipped the ticket in her pocket. Mayberry was not going to let Uncle Huckleberry take her ticket again.

"No we are done, the day Wally died was the day I told myself to stop believing in this stupid witchcraft!"

"It's not stupid," Mayberry had her voice somewhere she just had to find it.

"A waste of time!" Uncle Huckleberry foot pressed down on the gas, Mayberry could feel the car begin to rumble, she could feel the world about to shift, her new world, the world she was meant for, it was all going to go away.

Mayberry unclipped her seatbelt.

The car began to move forward.

Mayberry grabbed the car door handle.

The car sped-

Mayberry fell out.

* * *

"Excuse me can you help me find my train?" Mayberry stared up at one of those King's Cross workers, the one who wear the dark blue train conductor's hats but are only there to help the passengers find their trains.

"Eh?" the question ready train conductor eyed Mayberry like she was gum on the floor. The only thing gum on the floor is good for is avoiding and completely forgetting.

"My train," Mayberry showed her ticket, still tightly gripped, up to the woman's beady eyes.

"Good one," the woman huffed and immediately turned her head.

"Excuse me?" Mayberry raised the ticket higher.

"Hey, kid scram! I'm here for actual questions, not for you and your friends to laugh at," the woman's eyebrows scrunched over her beady eyes.

"But-"

"Show me that ticket again and I'll get the police!"

Mayberry stepped back and scurried towards her cart. She shoved the ticket in her one of her two pockets and began to push the heavy cart over towards platform 8 and 9, just like Hagrida said it should be. The tiny phone on top of her cart began to buzz. Mayberry froze, after she had gotten the wand back at Ollivandar's Hagrida had surprised her with a new phone.

 _Ping._

Mayberry reached over and pressed the middle button before more pings began. As her fingers touched the silver screen, an owl immediately flew out. The owl lifted off the cart and flapped its wings. Mayberry bit her lip hoping nobody else was paying attention to the tan and white spotted feathers, the large gray eyebrows, and the tiny orange beak of her new crested owl. The owl, which Mayberry so generously named Pedmig turned it's head to the left, than the right.

 **Hoot.**

Mayberry smiled and rubbed her hand over the owl's head. Mayberry had been surprised enough to see the present Hagrida had so generously gave her but then, as Hagrida explained the new iowl thing, Mayberry had become ecstatic.

The whole witch community was jumping into the technology era, with these new phones called iowls. The owl lives in the phone, but when a message is needed to be sent or delivered, the owl shoots out with the ping. All Mayberry had to do was press the middle button and bam...a beautiful owl named Pedmig would be at her side.

Mayberry smiled, she would never be alone again.

Pedmig hooted again and stuck its foot out. Mayberry nervously reached for the tiny letter, it would take awhile for her to get used to a message delivered by a phone owl. She ripped the stark envelope open once in her hands, quickly reading the message:

Mayberry Dotter,

I hope you are not running late, just sending this to wish you good luck! The other kids are going to love you!

Sending a hug,

Hagrida

Mayberry was about to place the letter back down but was even more, even more, surprised when the letter itself grew arms and wrapped itself around her. The letter hug felt and smelt exactly like a real Hagrida hug. The nerves and anxiety she had built up were slowly disappeared. The letter arms sunk back in as it crumpled it up. Pegmig head swooped down and grabbed the letter in his beak. It swallowed it without a bite.

 **Hoot.**

The wind of the bird's wings rippled at Mayberry's face as Pegwig flew straight back into the phone screen. The large spotted bird disappearing into the tiny screen in seconds. Mayberry jumped in place, everything was so new and exciting, and she hoped she would never get tired of receiving an iowl message.

"Hey!"

Mayberry stood still, she didn't want to turn around, maybe she should just continue further pretend that the person behind her who probably saw the bird message and letter hug was just seeing things. Mayberry gripped the cart and pushed it-

"Hey wait one second!"

Mayberry didn't have a choice, the person making the sound dashed in front of her cart. The cart squealing to a halt, the phone flying off the top suitcase.

"No!" Mayberry ran over kneeling down on the tile rail station floor. She saw the shiny spotted phone and reached out.

"How did you get this new model?" the person who made her drop the iowl was now holding said iowl.

"Ummm...what?" Mayberry stood back up and looked her culprit in the eyes. The light brown eyes belonged to a girl her height, but wherever Mayberry was dark, this girl was bright. Her fire red hair was braided in two vivid braids that circled her head and more her pale skin had more freckles than stars in the sky.

"This iowl is the newest model! I don't even think its in Ceylops iOwl Emporium yet!" The girl held the phone like it was the last cupcake at a dinner party.

"My friend got it for me!" Mayberry reached out and thankfully was able to snatch the phone from the girl's grip. Mayberry pushed it deep into her pocket, right next to the wand and the ticket. The only three things Mayberry would consider locking deep in a vault.

"Wow you must be an amazing friend to have someone give you that!" the girl smiled, one of her front teeth missing. The girl, realizing this whipped her hands up, as her cheeks burnt a color similar to her hair. "Just my luck, you play Quidimidge with your sisters the day before your first year at DoveDimple and you lose a tooth!"

Mayberry laughed, as the girl once again smiled. Her smile was contagious even with one less tooth. It was the type of smile that would probably open even when the world around her was closing.

"Wait," Mayberry paused, "did you say DoveDimple?"

"Veronica Beasley!" A voice ripped through the train station almost like Uncle Huckleberry's, but even from this distant Mayberry could tell the voice belonged to a much nicer person.

"Oh bloody…" the girl's face was this time the red color of embarrassment as a man with a plaid shirt, a large cart and a small boy sitting on top rushed forward.

"Veronica Beasley today is not the day to go running off, not when your poor father has all your belongings!" The man's voice was much lower than Uncle Huckleberry and much more pleasant. The man with scruffy red hair, a slight shadow of a beard had the same tight nose and millions of freckles as the iowl stealer girl.

"I didn't mean I was just umm…" the girl glanced at Mayberry then quickly added, "making a friend."

"Yay right," the tiny boy on top of the cart also had red hair and one billion freckles but his nose had a more button look.

"I swear this I was just meeting her," the red haired girl pointed at Mayberry then added, "Dad, Fin, I want you to meet..." the girl paused with her one less tooth mouth open. Her light brown eyes screaming at Mayberry for help.

"Mayberry," Mayberry stuck her hand out, she was again always the politest in the room, shaking the large hands of the father and the tiny hand of the little boy named Fin.

"Mayberry nice to meet you, I'm sure Veronica told you, I'm her father Sully Beasley and this is her youngest brother Finny," the man had a warm smile that made Mayberry instantly feel welcome. The little boy didn't say anything; his tiny brown eyes just stared at Mayberry like she had spinach in her teeth. Mayberry wiped her mouth quickly to make sure.

"Wait...Mayberry Dotter?" the girl, Veronica's voice quietly whispered, Mayberry was probably the only one who heard it.

"Yes, Mayberry Dotter," Mayberry smiled, pushing her glasses back up her nose in order to look as friendly as possible.

"Is this your first time to DoveDimple Mayberry?" Mr. Beasley broke the two's stare contest. Mayberry turned and slowly nodded. With a number of people walking back and forth around the station, she didn't know how loud talking about witchcraft was allowed.

"Oh, don't worry dear, puggles are so involved with their own lives they don't even look up," Mr. Beasley smiled reading Mayberry's mind. Mayberry glanced around at the numerous people jogging past. He was right, everyone was either staring at the place they were going, or at the static phone in their hand to notice their tiny non-puggle group.

"Yes, this is my first year to DoveDimple," Mayberry's replied.

"Wonderful, it's Veronica's first time too!" Mr. Beasley beamed, his white-knuckled hands on the large cart relaxed like a large weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

"Yes, I already told her that!" Veronica angrily huffed as her younger brother Fin stuck out his tongue. Mayberry laughed as Veronica stuck her own out.

"Well, Mayberry I'm guessing you're as nervous as Ronnie here is about platform nine and one quarter."

"I'm not nervous!" Veronica huffed again, or at least that is what Mayberry heard, the girl still had her tongue half way out.

"You are too!" Fin yelled back just as two new carts pushed their way forward.

"I told you he was not into you-"

"Then why would he wink at me like that!"

"He wasn't winking at you - he was winking at me!"

"Like there's a difference!"

Two girls who looked exactly alike ran forward, the two's faces had the same light brown eyes, trillion freckles and bright red hair as the others. The only distinction was one had long hair straight while the other, long with a slight curl at the bottom.

"Gina not now!" Mr. Beasley turned to the two girls, they were almost as tall as him and as the staggered closer Mayberry could tell they were probably only a few years older than her.

"Geez Dad maybe I'll listen to you if you knew my actual name!" the girl with a more slight curl at the ends echoed back her smile just as big and bold as the rest of the family's.

"Oh gosh sorry Francia, I swear that it was-"

"No I'm kidding I'm Gina!" the girl with the slight curl laughed as she began to run straight towards the wall.

Mayberry blinked.

Yes, the girl with the slight curl continued to sprint towards the wall with the numbers 8 and 9 displayed on them. Mayberry froze and felt a scream in her throat began as the girl's cart lay inches from the wall.

 _Whoosh._

She disappeared. Mayberry kept her mouth open and pushed her glasses high on her face. She wiped the clean lenses with her sleeve just to make sure what she saw actually happened.

"She's just kidding Dad, love you, send you an iowl in a few days!" the other girl, Francia with the straighter hair kissed Mr. Beasley on the cheek and began sprinting towards the wall. The wall like before, the cart squeaking as she gained speed.

 _Whoosh._ The girl with the straighter hair vanished just like the first one.

"Wow," Mayberry turned around to make sure she wasn't seeing anything. By the nonchalant look on the father's face and the bored expression on the little boys, Mayberry could see this was nothing new. She twisted and saw Veronica's expression.

Mayberry sighed with relief, Veronica looked as nervous as she felt.

"Okay Ronnie, like I said for the five hundredth time, you aim straight for the wall," arm pointed, "a little less than a half. You don't want to end up at platform nine and three quarters, because that is a whole different story!" Mr. Beasley laughed pushing the cart closer to Veronica. Veronica nodded her head, the two braids spinning around. She was smiling, but not as bright as before. The girl's tiny brown eyes glanced over at Mayberry. Mayberry held her breath. She was just as confused as Veronica. _There was a platform nine and three quarters? Running straight into a wall? What happens if she doesn't go through?_ But as Mayberry met Veronica's just-as-scared eyes she pushed those thoughts out of her head.

And smiled.

The girl's one-toothless smile peeled back to its original glow.

"Okay, I'm going!" Veronica reached her hands out for her own cart, Mr. Beasley smiling just as bright as his daughter let the tiny girl take the lead.

"Have a great first year, send me an iowl as soon as you can. And remember if you need anything, Gina, Francia and Marcy are all at DoveDimple and they promised me they would help you," he smoothed one of the girl's braids and kissed her lightly on the forehead. "You'll do great."

Veronica smiled, then shooed the tiny boy Fin off the cart. He jumped off and folded his arms, his tongue sticking out. Veronica didn't seem to notice; instead, all her focus remained on the wall. Mayberry held her breath. The million freckled girl didn't blink, didn't stop, and didn't wobbly, she began to sprint.

Veronica ran straight for the wall, a little left of center, with a smile bright on her face the entire way.

 _Whoosh._

The next thing Mayberry knew, the two Beasley's were looking at her.

"Well don't just stand there Miss Mayberry, the train isn't going to wait for you!" He patted her on the back then stepped off to the side, the little boy's tiny brown eyes met hers.

"Good luck," he whispered so quietly that Mayberry partially didn't even think he said it.

"Umm...thank you for all your help," Mayberry gripped the cart rail.

"Oh, you'll have plenty of time for that! I have a good feeling about you Miss Mayberry," he winked, "just make sure you keep an eye on my Veronica."

Mayberry nodded and turned her full attention on the wall. She paced a step to the left of the middle, took a deep breath out, and then ran. Her feet pounding against the tile, her cart squeaking along with her heartbeat.

Mayberry ran, her path straight, her eyes forward and her mind clear. She ran straight to platform nine and one quarter, with a smile plastered on her face.

 _Whoosh._

* * *

Question: I need ideas for the four houses names and animals! Best ideas get into the story – so keep them coming (you can iowl me if needed)!


	9. Dovedimple Express

Hello Mayberry Dotter Lovers! It's Mayberry Monday and it's time for a new chapter. I am having a lot of fun reading everyone's suggestions for houses names and animals...but I still need more! Before Mayberry goes to the castle or gets sorted into a house she needs to know what the four stand for! Ahhhh! I have the Slytherin decided, but not the other three. Please, Mayberry Lovers help me out!

Also just a note, I realized I have been calling the school DoveDimple instead of Dovedimple. I mean in Harry Potter it's not HogWarts, it's Hogwarts. So from now on, I am calling it Dovedimple. Well, that's it for me, enjoy the story (and let me know what you think)!

* * *

Mayberry Dotter followed the bright red haired braids up the steps. The girl with the braids did not look down or tighten her right hand against the rail like Mayberry Dotter, no; Veronica Beasley marched up the steep railcar steps like they were solid cement.

"We have to find good seats!" Veronica's turned around and boosted to Mayberry, her amusing smile shining even without two teeth, "that way we will get a great view of the countryside and hopefully the castle!" Mayberry nodded along while pushing her glasses further up her nose, _a castle_. Her breath caught in her throat. She couldn't believe she was going to a school in an actual castle.

"Tickets please," a train conductor stopped the two of them at the top of the steps, the woman, with a wool hat and a thick blue vest pulled her stringy arm out.

Mayberry's left hand (the other was still very much clutching the rail) reached into her pocket and pulled the golden ticket out. Veronica's own ticket partnered up next to it. The light from golden sheets smiled back at Mayberry. She had left her Uncle at King's Cross, walked through a brick wall and made a new friend all with that ticket. Mayberry was _almost_ sad to see it go. But almost was the key word.

"Alright," the train conductor snatched the tickets and brought a grayish brown wand under the two. "Verum Tessera!" the two tickets in her hands immediately crumpled themselves into a ball shape. If Mayberry had more time to examine them, she would have said oval-shaped, like a chicken egg, but Mayberry's eyes weren't fast enough. Unexpectedly, the two ticket eggs cracked open and two doves, their feathers a mix of snow white and gold fluttered out of the train conductor's hands. Their paper wings fluttered into the sky, then out of the train cart.

"Wonderful, enjoy the trip!" the train conductor twirled around and pushed open the train door, the smell of old wood and comfy seats smacked Mayberry's nose. Mayberry opened her mouth, ready to ask the train conductor what would have happened if they had been fake tickets. She thought maybe instead of a dove, a tiny raven or crow would hatch. "Excuse me what wou-"

"Let's go!" Veronica grabbed onto Mayberry's arm and began tugging her down the aisle. Mayberry shut her mouth as she was pulled into the train. She was hauled through the magical train with the red carpet that made her feet feel like they were flying, full of large green seats perfect for sitting and had big glass windows that made it look like the train had no roof. Magical was only one way to describe the amazing train she was sprinting in.

Mayberry let her new friend and excited feet carry her down. She would ask Veronica about the train ticket later because now she was in the Dovedimple Express. A shiny steel train bursting with students in robes just like her, with smiles just like her, laughing with friends just like she had. All the students, the young witches, and wizards, with braces, and pigtails, and buzz cuts, and hijabs, all of them didn't seem to notice or care about Mayberry. They all seemed to think she was just another student, just like them. Mayberry smiled because she was. Mayberry was finally just like them.

"Veronica?" Mayberry stumbled behind the girl clearly on a mission for the best seat on the train. She made sure her voice was loud enough. The tornado of students' voices was building as they got farther and farther from the front.

"Don't worry we'll find a seat cart!" Veronica dragged Mayberry's deeper through the storm cloud of students. From Mayberry's perspective, there didn't seem to be one area open, not even a place for their butts to share. They passed a cart full older looking students with beards and high eyebrows, a cart with students with their noses pressed into their textbooks and a cart with...Mayberry shuddered. A cart with that white blond girl she had unfortunately met when buying her robe. Mayberry was the one tugging Veronica away from that cart.

Then out of nowhere, an empty seat cart pounced into their view. Veronica happily clapped and ran over towards row 139. "Here we go!" Veronica reached across for handle.

"Don't even think about it first year," Veronica's hand was batted away by another red haired girl. A red haired girl Mayberry had already had the pleasure of meeting

"Oh come on Gina!" Veronica reached again. To only be swatted by the other twin, the straighter haired Francia.

"Sorry first years," the girls laughed and opened up the cart. Mayberry was about to take a step in but was held back by Veronica, Veronica rolled her eyes, "don't even try," she then pointed her finger at her teeth, "how do you think I lost these!"

Veronica began to trudge forward as the twins shouted back, "Don't worry it's only gonna get worse from here!" Mayberry heard the slapping of hands, the mocking laughter and the closing of the cart door. Mayberry didn't have sisters, and at this point didn't feel any regret.

"Let's try this one," Veronica loudly screamed as she pulled Mayberry into the nearest seat cart, number 141. The next thing Mayberry knew, she was stuck inside a cart with more books than a library. More books than probably the Oxford Library held. She squeezed up against the door with Veronica at her side. Veronica still hadn't looked inside seat cart 141, her face was pressed against the door. "Did they see us find these new seats?" Veronica asked.

"Umm…probably?" Mayberry twisted her head from side to side, the books stacked in the seats and up against the window. There was nowhere she could move without a tumbling of books to follow.

"I hope they heard, that way they know I don't need their help…" Veronica turned around from the window, "bloody-"

"-Hey!" a voice from in between the makeshift train library yelped.

"Hello?" Mayberry called back as Veronica nudged her in the arm. Veronica's brown eyes were wide as she took in the sheer amount of books crammed into one train cart. Mayberry loved books, they were her usual escape from the Fudley's, but this amount, Mayberry too was shocked.

"This cart is taken," the voice belonged to a boy with frizzy hair; he popped up out of the stacks. He had the type of face that probably always frowned and the type of voice that was probably always right. He took a careful step forward with one of his fingers still stuck in a book. _A large book_ , Mayberry took in his skinny arms, she had no idea how he was carrying it.

"No way is this possible," Veronica whispered in Mayberry's ear, "this kid is definitely a nut job."

"Hey I can hear you!" the boy crossed his arms but still didn't put the book down.

"What is all this?" Veronica took a slow step forward and motioned to the stacks. She had successfully been able to move without causing a book avalanche.

"Books," the boy raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I can see that!" Veronica placed her hands on her hips and smiled, but then ( _once again_ ) realizing she was missing two teeth immediately closed her mouth. The boy didn't seem to notice, he was too busy being embarrassed himself.

"Books for Dovedimple?" Mayberry's soft voice carried over the frizzy haired boy's library.

"Of course," the boy seemed to jump back into his mind, "as a first student you have to be as prepared as possible, I mean…" his eyes danced up on the ceiling, "my family had no idea what it meant for me to be a wizard so now I have to figure out how to…" his voice stopped. His eyes flew back down to look at them; he seemed to regret everything he had just divulged.

"So you have read all these books?" Veronica asked the question that was inside Mayberry's head.

"Most," the boy nodded, "and the others I plan to finish before we get there, so please," he sat back down in the only open area, "I need to get back to learning how to mix a confusing concoction so it thickens properly." Mayberry eyed Veronica; there was no way they were going to be able to sit in here.

"Oh don't worry, we're not staying," Veronica opened the door pulling Mayberry once again into the red carpet aisle.

"Good luck," Mayberry waved to the boy buried in the large book and couldn't help but feel slightly bad for him. She also had no idea what was going on, but now, at least she had Hagrida and Veronica for help. All he had was books.

"Wow that boy was a bit of a nerd," Veronica mumbled, "let's hope he doesn't get sorted in the same house as us." Mayberry nodded along, even if she had no idea what Veronica was saying, she was still trying to figure out how they were going to find a seat.

That was until three steps later when a large frog came hopping down the aisle, and a small girl hopping after. "Trina stop!" the tiny girl with thick curls yelled after the frog. Mayberry watched the frog and the tiny girl run away as Veronica opened up the cart they came out of.

"Look at this Mayberry, a perfect spot just like I said!" Veronica twirled around and plopped down on one of the seats, Mayberry laughed along as she sat on the other side. The seat of the train fitting into her butt like it had been waiting for it. Her eyes turning to the large window with the rolling hills, tall trees, and yellow wildflowers. She jumped around in her seat, the beautiful view making her even more excited for what was to come.

Mayberry turned back to Veronica who was busy looking at her reflection in the mirror, her fingers sliding over the empty spots in her mouth.

"Don't worry no one is going to notice," Mayberry said to Veronica as the red braided girl smiled, her face now a red the same color as her hair. "Thanks," Veronica mumbled. Mayberry opened her mouth ready to ask questions about the train, the tickets, and the frogs.

"Snacks!"

She closed her mouth when she heard the screech of man and the squeak of the train food cart.

"Fantastic timing I am starving," Veronica patted her stomach and eyed Mayberry.

"Oh yes I am hungry as well," Mayberry beamed and stretched into her backpack, she had tried to pack a lunch before Uncle Huckleberry had sped away in the van. But tried was the key word, she had only been able to muster a simple sandwich. She opened the crumpled paper bag and pulled her peanut butter and jelly sandwich onto the table. Well, Mayberry looked down, her smashed peanut butter and leaking jelly sandwich.

"Mayberry, you can't eat that," Veronica nudged the sandwich with her finger, "trust me," she crossed her hands over her heart, "I have had plenty of pancaked sandwiches in my time and if there is one thing I know, it's that smashed sandwiches always taste like the floor." Veronica then pointed at the red carpet, which when Mayberry looked at closer had stains and dirt clinging to the ends, "do you really want to eat a lunch of that?"

Mayberry shook her head.

"Exactly!" Veronica's smile brightened, "now let's get you some snacks."

Mayberry pushed her glasses up onto her nose as the squeaky snack cart stopped in front of their seats.

"Did someone say snacks?" the man with a twirling mustache motioned to his shiny silver cart, with piles of colorful candy, sparkly wrappers, and vivid coated chocolates.

"Yes!" Mayberry expected Veronica to be just as excited as her; the cart was overflowing with food like her not-quite-an-attic bedroom had overflowed with spiders. She twisted over to Veronica who was busy in her own purple backpack.

"What can I get you?" the man with a mustache leaned towards Mayberry like Santa Claus over an eager child.

"Umm…." Mayberry still had her eyes on Veronica who was now pulling out her own sack lunch. "Veronica, are you not going to have anything?"

"Oh," Veronica blushed and plopped her lunch on the table, "I don't have quite enough Tackle or even a few Qent's to get anything, and so," she held up her own sandwich it wasn't pancaked like Mayberry's but it was still just as sad, "so I am stuck with this." Veronica tried to smile but Mayberry could tell it wasn't a real one.

"Excuse me, Miss, what will you have?" the man with the mustache huffed, now quite aware that only one of his customers was going to actually buy something.

Mayberry paused and reached into her pocket, she still had no idea what the monetary system was like, but as her fingers latched onto the coins, she knew she was getting a lot. A lot of coins for a lot of snacks. Mayberry's coins rained down on the table, their clings echoing through their seat cart. The stacks of coins almost as big as one of those boy's book stacks. But the key word here was almost.

Veronica stared at the coins, this time a real smile erupted on her face.

"I'll take the lot," Mayberry said to the mustache man, who nodded with more vigor than the train speeding down the tracks.

"Of course!" he said as he began handing her gigantic candies, animal-shaped snacks, and sugary smelling food. Mayberry smiled and laughed as Veronica threw her sad sandwich back into her purple pack.

"I knew I had a good feeling about you!" Veronica giggled reaching for a chocolate caterpillar but then as her fingers touched it, the chocolate morphed into a butterfly. Veronica snatched its delicate wings just before it flew off. Veronica's giggle morphed into a full belly laugh.

Mayberry wanted to laugh along, but she too busy deciding what she was going to try first. The blinding red sugared lips that said they would express your mood, the tiny gummy bears that were dancing around in their container, or the jelly beans flavored like motorcycle exhaust.

Mayberry decided to try them all.


	10. The train ends, but the journey begins

Hello again! It is time for a new Mayberry Dotter, I know it's not Mayberry Monday, but it's Sunday Funday! Thanks for the comments and ideas, keep them coming. Hopefully, I will be able to write another chapter later this week. And to answer the spells questions, I think I am going to keep some incantations and change some up...or if anyone has ever thought of a good spell they want, please let me know! Time for the story!

* * *

Mayberry Dotter's stomach was very full, scratch that, Mayberry Dotter's stomach was fuller than three Thanksgiving, two Christmas dinners, and one Halloween candy raid. Her stomach was beyond the scope of fullness. Even so, as Mayberry clutched her stomach she reached for another one of Franny's Frolicking Flower seed candy. No amount of fullness could stop her from continuing to the turmoil of the flavor sensation that was driving her taste buds wild. The bright pink seed shaped candy, once touching her tongue popped open like an actual flower seed. The tiny flower grew in her mouth; Mayberry tried not to laugh and tried not to move her tongue as the flower grew. She felt the seed sprouts strings roots that hit the bottom of her mouth and a tiny stem shoot up.

"Don't move a muscle!" Veronica was over her staring at her mouth as the candy flower grew inside. Apparently, Franny's Frolicking Flower's candies were supposed to be able to grow to the size of a full August flower inside your mouth. Veronica swears she heard from one of her sisters that someone had let the flower grow so big, it bulleted out of their nose.

The candy flower's delicate petals danced across the top of Mayberry's mouth. She tried not to think about the tickling sensation, or the sugar gelling at the bottom of her gums, or the fact that Veronica was currently staring into her nose.

"I can almost see it!" Veronica screamed, dancing on the green seat.

Mayberry could feel the petals itch the back of her-

She sneezed.

"Oh come on!" Veronica huffed as she circled around on the seat like an angry dog then landing next to the window, "you were so close!" Mayberry couldn't answer her back, she was too busy chewing the rest of the candy, once the flower begins growing, it doesn't stop until the mouth moves or in this case chews.

"At least I got farther than you!" Mayberry giggled back in between the explosion of the pink lily flavored sugar. She decided she liked the purple petunia flavored seed better, Mayberry licked her lips, but this one was fine too.

"No, you didn't!" Veronica laughed and stared out the window. The window had turned from green rolling hills, to white wildflowers, to now, a thick forest that was hard to see into.

"I thought you said we would be able to see the castle?" Mayberry pushed her glasses up on her nose and stared out into the forest abyss.

"Well, that's what Gina said," Veronica crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, "but she also said a flower candy could grow out of your nose."

Mayberry squinted closer towards the distance, she had lost track of time since the snack cart, and now, had no idea if it how long it had been since they have left platform nine and one quarter. The train's steady rhythm and the other's students joyful laughing was like a time warp to her mind. It could have only been two hours, or even eight. Heck, Mayberry could have been on this train for a few days now.

It had been three hours and twenty-nine minutes.

Mayberry looked over at her companion, no scratch that, Mayberry Dotter looked at her new friend. Veronica's red braids were messy and she still had a red line of sugar around her lips from the Lorna's Laughing Lips suckers. As Mayberry watched her new friend's large brown eyes slid into a sugar comatose close, Mayberry couldn't help but smile. She had spent every day of her eleven years and four days life wishing for a friend. And now, without Mayberry even realizing it, she had one. Veronica's brown eyes fully sealed into full on nap mode as Mayberry felt her own eyes dropping. Her full sugared stomach was making her head sleepy.

* * *

 _The hallway was dark. It was the kind of dark that Mayberry did not like, the kind that was only made for horror movies or shaky underground subway tunnels. The floor beneath her feet was damp. Mayberry could feel the wetness seep into the soles of her feet. She was wearing shoes, Mayberry looked down. Yes, she couldn't believe her feet were wet when she had these types of shoes on. Mayberry was sporting thick black hiking boots, the shoes perfect for traveling up mountains or down into caves. But for some reason, the damp ground seeped into her white socks._

 _"Siccum!" A blinding light flashed down by her feet. The light passed through the dark hallway reaching the end and vanished. Her feet, immediately dry, she could feel the softness of the dry white socks kissing her long toes._

 _She continued walking down the dark damp hallway and with each footstep, Mayberry's wobbly scar burned crueler. But for some reason, she couldn't touch it. She couldn't reach her arm up to caress the burn._

 _The dry feet that didn't feel like Mayberry's anymore marched down the hallway and stopped at a wooden door that would look better in a haunted house. The black paint was peeling off the sides and the rusted doorknob was turning a sickly shade of green. Mayberry squinted and was able to make out a reddish cursive writing on the door, Potions. A hand that didn't feel like Mayberry's hand reached out, it's tanned skinned and purple silken arm extended towards the door. This was not Mayberry's arm. But still, Mayberry could feel the blistered door beneath her knuckles as the hand knocked on the haunted house door._

 _Knock, knock._

 _Mayberry screamed out in pain, the heat from her forehead was making it hard to breathe. The image in front of her began to dissipate, the haunted door, the hand, and the dark hallway faded. She winced again, Mayberry tried to open her eyes. Tried to move her body. She needed to see who was on the other side of the door._

 _The door opened._

 _A woman with a long nose, coffee colored skin and thin black pieces of hair grimaced back._

 _Mayberry woke up._

* * *

"Mayberry! Mayberry!"

Mayberry Dotter woke up to the shaking of her shoulders and the burning in her forehead. She squinted her eyes open to meet the brown eyes of her new friend. Her new friend who was very much scared.

"Mayberry wake up!" Veronica continued to shake Mayberry's shoulders even as Mayberry sat up.

"I'm up Veronica," Mayberry replied, her voice wasn't nearly as loud as Veronica's, for some reason Mayberry was having a hard time getting her senses. She had a wailing headache and her wobbly star-shaped scar continued to burn holes into her skin.

"Oh my gosh you're up!" Veronica sat back down but her large brown eyes continued to study Mayberry, study her like the test results a teacher forgot to put away. "I was so worried," Veronica nervously explained with her pale hands, "I was asleep too, but then I heard you screaming and I woke up and then I tried to wake you but…" Veronica stopped her two-toothless mouth wide open.

"But what?" Mayberry glanced out towards the window now filled with a large body of water. She gently touched her scorching scar, the light touch of her hands only making it worse.

"But then you knocked."

"Knocked?" Mayberry turned back and watched as Veronica demonstrated what Mayberry had supposedly done while she was sleeping. Veronica, in a slumped over napping position brought her hand up and pounded the fist in the air.

Knock, knock.

Mayberry shivered, it was almost like she could see that haunted house door all over again. She tried not to think about the way the door felt beneath her knuckles, Mayberry glanced at her hand, it's skin red like she just pounded on a door. Mayberry gulped.

"Mayberry?" Veronica's voice shook.

"I don't know why in my dream I was walking down a hallway, then I knocked and then…" Mayberry touched her forehead again.

"What's that?" Veronica pointed to wobbly scar. Mayberry pushed her bangs across her head. Veronica gasped, "I thought that was a myth?"

"Excuse me?" Mayberry blushed her cheeks felt as red as Veronica's wild braids.

"Your...your story."

"My story?"

"You mean you don't even know your story?" Veronica whispered as she stumbled over to sit next to Mayberry. Mayberry shook her head. She didn't know her own story. Mayberry Dotter was storyless.

"Mayberry, your story. Mayberry…you remained," Veronica whispered.

"I remained where?"

"Alive! Mayberry, you were the only one to remain alive! She Who Must Not Be Heard killed everyone," Veronica reached out and held Mayberry's hand, she gently squeezed it, "your Mom, your Dad, She Who Must Not Be Heard killed them but not you," Veronica pushed Mayberry's bangs across her forehead, "She Who Must Not Be Heard tried to kill you, but instead you got rid of her, and that scar,

Veronica's hands lightly danced across it, "that scar is the proof."

Mayberry was silent, but her mind raged. She had a story, Mayberry Dotter wasn't storyless anymore and suddenly everything made sense. Her mind pieced together the whispers at the Almost Overflowing pub, the stares down the Haidron Alley, and the wand that burned in her pocket. She had a story.

Mayberry was so enthralled by Veronica's tale she didn't even realize they had stopped. Veronica did though because the minute the train's rhythm ended, the other student's excited laughter became anticipated whispers, and the window showed a dark sandy beach Veronica let go of Mayberry's hand and began dancing wildly around in circles.

"Mayberry! Mayberry!" Veronica began to shake Mayberry's shoulders, but this time, Mayberry was not waking from a nightmare, she was living in a dream. "Mayberry we are finally here!"

Mayberry pushed her bangs back from her forehead and stood up. It was only a nightmare, probably caused by all the sugar she had just inhaled. She was not going to let that ruin her day, because off in the distant, as Mayberry grabbed Veronica's hand to run down the green-carpeted aisle and out of the train, there was an island all on its own. An island that had the biggest castle Mayberry had ever seen.

"That's it!" Veronica pointed to the castle on an island. The castle that sparkled with white bricks, which shined with huge windows and had at least seven towers. It was the kind of castle built in the Middle Ages, dreamt about in fairytales, and wished upon in movies. Mayberry's feet sprinted through the sand as she continued to squeeze Veronica's hand. She didn't even care that she heard the snickers of the older students, "first years," a few mumbled as they dashed past. Mayberry was too happy to care.

"It's beautiful!" Mayberry and Veronica shrieked as they ran around in happy circles, their feet tracing patterns in the dark sand.

"First years over here!" A voice bellowed through the excitement. Mayberry and Veronica exhausted now, stopped their happy dance. She swirled around, Mayberry suddenly realizing the older students have left. As she looked around at the other student's faces she saw shadows of nervousness, but more importantly excitement. Only the first years remained on the dark sand.

"First years last call, unless ya' fools wanna be left at this beach!" Veronica and Mayberry hurried over to the voice. They wiggled through the kids to pop out in front.

"Glad to see you, Mayberry!" The voice was Hagrida, still in her leather jacket of many pockets but this time instead of the large boots, her huge feet peeked out in sandals. Mayberry giggled, she looked like the oddest person to ever be on a beach.

"Hello Hagrida" Mayberry smiled up as the first years around her shifted in their stances, "thank you for the iowl.L Mayberry could feel Veronica's tiny elbow jab into her ribs.

"You know her!" Veronica whispered in her ear. But didn't whisper soft enough because then Hagrida opened her mouth.

"Know her! Ha!" Hagrida hugging smile cracked across her face, "I saved Mayberry Dotter when she was just a wee babe and then just a few days ago from those horrid puggles!" Hagrida slapped Veronica on the back as Veronica beamed back up. "You must be a Beasley?" Hagrida's butterfly fingers landed on the girl's red braids.

"Yes…ma'am…I'm the youngest girl…" Veronica peered up at Hagrida with more awe than shock.

"Good, because if you told me there was another three of you I would pray for your mother every night," Hagrida laughed.

"Well, I still have a younger brother-"

"A Beasley boy!" Hagrida held her stomach as her voice boomed, "well that settles it! I am defiantly praying for your mother!" Veronica nodded and laughed along, Mayberry smiled.

"Okay first years!" Hagrida turned and addressed the entire anxious group, "its time to go to Dovedimple, no more talking about it! Find a boat," she pointed to the bottom of the beach where tiny rows boats bounced up and down with the waves, "and get ready for the ride!" Hagrida opened her arms as the first years around her began running down towards their ride.

"Let's get the best one!" Veronica was one of the first sprinting towards the boats and Mayberry followed with dark sand picking up behind them.

"This is the one!" Mayberry crawled into a boat before Veronica and waved her over. Veronica's red braids bounced as she sprinted over.

"Great choice," Veronica mumbled and pointed towards the closest boat, where none other than the frizzy haired boy with his books upon books sat.

Mayberry laughed, looking at the view of the boy's face still plastered in a book. "How do you think he got all those books in the boat?" Mayberry whispered.

Veronica shrugged her shoulders and stuck out her tongue. For some reason, Mayberry had that strange feeling that they were going to see a lot more of the book crazed boy.

"Is this seat taken?" the tiny girl who had chased after the frog in the train poked out from behind them.

"Sure!" Mayberry waved her in, the boat for three would be a tight squeeze but the more the merrier. The tiny girl, with large cheeks, a crooked smile with brown hair in knots jumped in.

"Thanks," she smiled as a large green frog poked out of her pocket.

"Hey you found Trina," Veronica pointed.

The tiny girl smiled, her cheek larger than life, "actually after trying to enlist everyone's help, even that book-loving boy Hermes…"

Veronica rolled her eyes.

"-it ended up being that large woman who found it," the tiny girl pointed at Hagrida then smiled over at the two girls, "I'm Nellie Shorttoppin."

"I'm Veronica Beasley and this is Mayberry Dotter," Veronica smiled.

"Oh gosh, _the_ Mayberry Dotter awesome!" Nellies voice rose in a high pitch as she leaned in towards Mayberry, "so do you have a scar?"

Mayberry smiled and pushed her bangs over, now that she knew the story, she was more proud of the scar than ever before. If someone wanted to see it, heck, Mayberry Dotter would let them see it.

"Bloody that is awesome!" the girl giggled as the frog in her pocket croaked, "Oh shut up Trina!" The three girls on the boat laughed like the old friends.

Veronica shifted around in her seat, "Do you see the oars?" Mayberry too looked under the wooden seat and the water on each side.

"Nope," Mayberry said then viewed the front of their tiny rowboat. The lantern swinging in the front burst alive.

"Look!" Nellie pointed to the other rowboats, whose own lanterns light's glowed, the lights in different colors of greens, reds, blues, and pinks. Mayberry's, Nellie's and Veronica's own light was a deep purple.

"Beautiful," Mayberry whispered in all the excitement she hadn't even noticed the sun go down, but one by one as the boats started to make their own way towards the castle, the stars shined down. The stars lit laughed back at their reflections in the water. Mayberry pushed her glasses farther up her nose; she didn't want to miss a second of this. She looked out at the colorful lanterns and couldn't see where the water ended and the sky began. They were in a sea of stars, swimming in a lantern-lit sky. And in the distance a castle built for twenty-seven queens.

Mayberry turned and saw the book-crazed boy Hermes in the boat across. She smiled; he wasn't a reading a book now.

No one would want to miss this.


	11. Sorting Hat

Welcome to Mayberry Dotter Chapter 11! I hope everyone is enjoying reading this story as much as I am having fun writing it. I read all the comments so keep them coming. If you know Harry Potter (which if you don't, come on) then you know where I'm going with the story, so if any idea for someone or something pops in your head let me know! Okay have a great rest of your day, it's been super sunny by me which is making it very hard to want to sit and write. Ahhh! Small comment I change Dumbledore to Bumblebore, if you don't like let me know a better one. Enough about me, on with the story!

* * *

Mayberry Dotter was inside a castle. She repeats, Mayberry Dotter the girl who slept in the not-quite-an attic, was currently very much, inside a castle. _Amazing, right?_ She knows, Mayberry was having a very hard time believing herself.

"Pay Attention First Years because I am only going to say this once!" the booming voice erupting down the hall was a man with curly hair cut short, wearing a dark red coat. This man with glasses sitting just on the edge of his nose introduced himself as Mars McGonagall, the Deputy Head Minister of DoveDimple, and incidentally enough a Professor of Transfiguration and the Head of a House here. He wouldn't say what house, just winked and said the best one.

Mayberry Dotter gulped down a lungful of air. She was standing next to Veronica and Nellie. Their eyes glued to Professor McGonagall like whatever he was saying was the key to the universe. She should too, Mayberry pushed her glasses up. She needed to stop being so amazed by everything and pay attention! Pay attention even if the lanterns on the walls were not held by anything and the painting to her left was itching his mustache. The painting was moving. _Moving!_

"You will wait in an orderly fashion at the front of the Great Hall," Professor McGonagall's voice was exactly what a teacher should be; loud, energetic and he enunciated every syllable, "then when I call your precious name from my hand dandy list," he pulled out a scroll and flipped it around, there were no names on it. The room of nervous first years gasped. "Oh," he laughed, "your name will appear on the scroll when it is time, don't worry."

Mayberry nodded to herself, what would happen if they didn't call her name? Would she be kicked out and thrown back to the puggles? She bit her lip and remembered something. Mayberry Dotter, this new Mayberry Dotter had a story, a story that involved magic. Her name was going to appear on that list.

"Once you are called, you will sit at the front stool, then, and only then," the man wagged his finger like this was the most important part, "will the hat choose your House!" They tiny hall they were in thundered with the excited laughter. It was the eager voices of the students imagining what house they would be sorted into, or better yet if they would be sorted in the one they wanted. Mayberry glanced at her new friend, her two-toothless smile bright, all Mayberry wanted was to be sorted into the same house as her.

Professor McGonagall beamed, "As for the houses," he cleared his voice, "hear my ode." He paused and wiggled his eyebrows, "You can be the loyal Suddlepud who is always standing true, or maybe the wise Crowheart who unlocks every key with few clues. Yet you could be the cunning Mongerine who always finds a door, or finally the brave hearted Findendor whose whispers echoes as roars!"

As if on cue, the doors behind Professor McGongall flew open. The entire first class gasped in shock as the glory of the Great Hall blazed down. Mayberry didn't know where to look, there was too much. The four long tables, the older students all standing up and clapping, the high ceiling, Mayberry gasped, the moon and stars shining down on them like they were outside, and the candles floating in the sky, mimicking the twinkles of the stars. Mayberry started forward towards the higher table where the professors smiled. There were older professors with white beards, younger professors with fresh eyes and a... Mayberry's scar immediately burned.

The woman from her dream.

Mayberry followed the rest of her class to the front of the hall, even if her feet marched to the tune, her head did not. The entire five minutes, she spent trying not to look at the woman with coffee skin and stringy black hair. The woman with a long nose who she saw from her dream, the dream that Mayberry Dotter should really be calling a nightmare. She held her breath and scurried next to Veronica.

As quickly as the clapping and cheers of the older students began, it ended. She turned to face the front where every other eye was turned. All eyes (even the woman from her nightmares) were on the head seat, of the head table. The woman who had everyone's attention stood up, she was dressed in a long gray robe, with white hair down to the floor and a face like any grandmother. Well, Mayberry never knew her grandmother, but any normal grandmother she had seen with normal kids. The woman had a smile that showed deep wrinkles and twinkling gray eyes that never sat at one place too long.

The woman placed her thin brown wand up to her neck. "Welcome!" The voice boomed over the Great Hall like she was using twelve different microphones and three different sound systems. "I am Head Mistress Alba Bumblebore and I welcome all new," her cheeks opened wider for the cluster of first years, "and returning students to Dovedimple School of Wizardry and Witchcraft!" The professors behind her began to politely clap and the rest of the hall joined in. Head Mistress Bumblebore held up her hands, silencing the claps, "before my usual announcements," she winked, "let's get these first years sorted!" The Great Hall went wild as Professor McGonagall came out of the back, holding a dusty, blackened wizard hat in his hands.

The hat was the kind with dark purple swirls, extra thick patches, and ribbons tied on various ends. Professor McGonagall's thin eyes glanced through his even thinner glasses, "Orion Likegreat!" His voice echoed through the silent hall as a boy, with blonde hair and a dirty robe stepped forward. Mayberry squinted, no it wasn't dirty, just paired with his pale skin, wild hair and open-eyed glaze made Mayberry think it was dirty. The only thing dirty about the boy was his necklace, a strange collection of rocks and buttons threaded together. He wandered up to the wooden stool, taking his time. There were a few coughs from the crowd which didn't speed up Orion any faster.

He finally sat, and the darkened hat covered his bright hair. The Great Hall hushed, Mayberry pushed her glasses higher on her nose, everyone was waiting for something, she just didn't know what.

"Crowheart!" The hat bellowed. It's voice like a librarian, never expected but when it does come out, completely needed. Mayberry's head threw back in surprise, now there was a talking hat!

The boy smiled and ran to one of the four tables, it's flags and tablecloths the deep blue of night and the spirited bronze of a Qent. Mayberry laughed as she saw a tiny stuffed animal of a crow, with a blue heart in its claw's pumped high in the air.

"Vivian Gregor!" Professor McGonagall yelled, as another student, with thick brown curls and eyes that were a tad too big for her forehead stepped out. She plopped down on the seat, her hands twisted in her lap.

"This isn't even a challenge," the hat began, "Suddlepud!"

This time the table with golden and brownish-black colors erupted in noise. Vivian Gregor was waved over to her new house and was given a cute stuffed otter plush. Mayberry sighed, she loved sea otters they were probably her second favorite animals, the first favorite of the sea.

"Draca Talfoy!" the Professor McGonagall called out the girl from the robe shop. Mayberry winced, she walked like she already knew which house she was going to. The white blonde girl smiled from the stool at the pack of first years like they were nothing but a doormat to stand on.

"Welcome to…" the hat paused, "...Mongerine!"

Draca smirked and whipped the hat off herself, she didn't wait for Professor McGonagall she just strode to the table with dark green flags and silver stripes. The table wasn't even cheering they were snapping, like a coffeehouse slam poetry night. Mayberry didn't need to see what mascot the Mongerine's were. For some reason, she already knew it, the dreadful snake-killing silver Mongoose.

"Hermes Langer!" Professor McGonagall called out for the boy with all the books. This time, as he peeked through and sat down on the stool, he only had one book in his hands, but it was still enough to make everyone roll their eyes.

"Hmmmm," the hat's voice rang as it was placed on his frizzy hair, "quite a thinker, are you?" The hat was having a discussion with the boy like they were the only two in the Great Hall. "Oooo you could do so well in Crowheart, so well. But my my my…. your heart is strong, so very strong…. where to place you?"

"Mayberry, I swear if he is going to Findendor with us-"

"Findendor!" The boy jumped off the stool the book still in his hands and ran towards the cheering red-clothed table. Mayberry didn't know what was louder the cheers from the Findendor table, it's mascot the powerful elephant and their hands under their noses as they wailed, or the upset cries of Veronica.

"Hannah Zeeb!" Another girl, her skinny arms pumping, ran up towards the stool taking a seat. So Findendor, Mayberry thought, the house for bravely and full-hearted love was where Veronica wanted to go. Mayberry nodded to herself, that seemed like the best place. Even the book-loving boy Hermes was getting pats on the back. Everyone at that table was smiling and dancing like they were best friends. Mayberry glanced over at the farthest table Mongerine, where the horrible girl glowered.

"Veronica," Mayberry tugged on her friend's sleeve.

"Yup?" Veronica turned.

"Who's that?" Mayberry pointed at the woman from her nightmare. Who was staring at her. Mayberry dropped her hand immediately but the woman didn't seem to notice. She was staring at Mayberry like she was someone else, somewhere else, in another time even.

"Oh, that," Veronica frowned, "is the infamous Potions professor. Professor Vape."

"Potions?" Mayberry questioned, maybe there was a way she didn't have to take potions. Her scar began to burn. Professor Vape's dark eyes stopped staring at Mayberry and turned over towards her seat partner, the woman Mayberry met at the Overflowing Cauldron, Professor Trembella.

"Yup, and…" Veronica placed her thumb under her chin, "if I'm not mistaken, the Head of the Mongerine house."

Mayberry swallowed. There was no way she was going there. No way.

"Veronica Beasley!" Professor McGonagall's perfect teacher voice echoed through the hall. Mayberry patted Veronica on the back who looked back at her with her cheeks as bright as her hair. She was biting her lip, probably to make sure her two-toothless smile didn't shine over to anyone.

Mayberry found herself nervous as she watched Veronica sit on the stool. The thumping of her heart echoed in her head as Veronica crossed her legs. The hat placed down on Veronica's red braids and the ha-

"Findendor!" The hat laughed, "come on another Beasley, of course, I know how to sort you!" Veronica ran off the stool faster than a cheetah without pants and jumped over to the red table. Where her sisters, met her, rubbing her on the head and beaming just as bright. Mayberry smiled and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Mayberry Dotter!" Professor McGonagall yelled her name, but she really didn't need to. Her name, shut up the voices of everyone in the entire Hall. When Mayberry Dotter says everyone, she means everyone. The dust off a dropping pencil could have echoed through the hall. Mayberry swallowed, she had to get used to this.

She stepped forward, one foot, then two, the first-year student's around her letting her pass. They parted away as the tiny whispers rose like an ocean tide.

"The girl who remained?" The whispers danced in her ears, "she killed She Who Must Not Be Heard!" "I thought she was a myth!" The voices stopped the moment Mayberry's butt smacked the stool, her new robes squishing behind her. She stared out from her broken glasses at the blank faces. The faces of the Great Hall became one, the dead look of awe painted on all. They all wanted to know who she was.

Mayberry smiled, she was Mayberry Dotter.

"Hmmmmmmm," the hat was placed on her ponytailed head, it's voice rumbling around in the air, "hmmmmmm I know you…. yes…." the hat seemed confused, "you feel like someone I know, someone I have placed, someone I can place again….hmmmmm"

Mayberry's heart pounded in her chest, it's rhythm the loudest thing in the room.

"Not Mongerine," she whispered out loud, but screamed in her head, "Not Mongerine."

"Ahhh, yes that was it. A Mongerine girl. I placed a girl who did..things...some would say great, some would say not so great. But I did place her in Mongerine not that long ago. Hmmmmmm," the hat was playing with Mayberry, she didn't want this, she didn't want to be a green Mongoose loving Mongerine.

"Not Mongerine!" her whisper was harsher more forceful. Mayberry's opinion needed to be heard, this was her future, not the hats!

"But you too could do great things there," the hat paused, "then again, your heart is full of the thing people write songs about, the thing people wish for, the thing people die for."

Mayberry held her breath.

"That settles it," the hat's voice rose, "Mong-

"-No!" Mayberry's voice caught in her throat.

"-just kidding. Findendor!" The hat laughed as Mayberry's smile tore her face apart. She jumped up, the hat falling off her head. Mayberry Dotter ran to the red table, towards the screaming student's cheering, "We got Dotter! We got Dotter!" She hugged her friend, Veronica's red braids whipping her in the face. Mayberry Dotter was not a Mongerine, she was a Findendor.

Let the fun begin.


	12. Findendor Life

It's Mayberry Monday! Yay! Get out your wands, it's time to read what's going on in Mayberry's life. I just realized in the last chapters I called Quidditch...Quidditch. Now that's not creative. So from now on I want to call it something else...with new rules of the game. Here I call it Zedditch. If you got a better idea or things for the rules let me know. I hope to be back into the pattern of getting a new chapter out every week...but I work faster with love from my Mayberry Dotter fans! Okay, time for the story.

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When Mayberry said her stomach was full on the train, she was just kidding. Because right now, as she bit off the last of the turkey leg, and the juice sputtered her chin, she was the fullest she had ever been. She is being serious this time. She had eaten over seventeen different things that she had always wanted to eat. There were the delicate Yorkshire puddings, creamy chicken stuffed with cranberries and spicy rice, fresh green beans in cheese, cheese on crunchy garlic bread, there were the turkeys bigger than her and even lobster redder than Veronica's hair. Mayberry had always wanted to have lobster, the white fishy meat tasted like the sea. She needed extra butter to eat it.

"More gravy?" Veronica reached over Mayberry's plate and drowned her large mountain of sweet potatoes in the thick sauce.

"Noooo…." Mayberry shook her head from side to side and watched Veronica shovel more food in, "I'm soooooo full Veronica," Mayberry moaned

"Ya me too," Veronica mumbled as food flew out of her mouth, then she smiled and took another bite. Mayberry tried not to laugh, she couldn't believe how much Veronica was eating.

"Excuse me, pardon mui…" a sing-song voice came from her left. Mayberry turned as a cold blast of air rocketed through her.

"Hey!" Veronica must have felt the same way, "who turned the air on?" She shoveled over and squished beside Mayberry.

"I said excuse me!" The voice was now to Mayberry's right, she swiveled around and dropped the turkey leg in her hands. She was staring at a ghost. Seriously, a ghost. Mayberry knew it was one because it was an outline of a woman that glowered. It was the opposite of a person's shadow. Mayberry could see Nellie sitting on the other side of Veronica. The ghost was floating between the two.

"Ahhhh!" Mayberry and Veronica held onto each other and screamed. Their voices were barely noticeable through the great hall but it got the attention of the others around. Nellie's mouth was opened wide and the other Findendor first years weren't blinking.

"Toad's breath!" the know-it-all boy Hermes was sitting across from them, he hadn't eaten much. Through the entire meal, he had read three chapters of the large book now on his plate. His voice sounded like he was a professor who hated kids, "You're telling me I'm the only one who knows our house ghost?"

"Ghost…." Veronica stumbled, she pointed her finger out, "that's a ghh...ooossstt."

"Excuse me but I'm sitting right here," the ghost crossed her arms and raised a pointed eyebrow. Mayberry and Veronica screamed again, but the ghost didn't move. She remained floating between Veronica and Nellie like she was going to reach over and eat. As the immediate terror of the situation died, Mayberry began to take in the full form of the ghost.

She was a woman dressed in a long dress, her hair was knotted in braids behind her back and she had jewelry hanging off everything. But the thing that threw Mayberry off, was over her beautiful queen-like attire, she had on armor. Armor that had blood stains, not like she was a knight ready for battle, but like a knight coming home.

"Everyone, all newbies to Findendor," Hermes stood up and held out his arm, "I'd like you to meet our house ghost, the brave Arianne Amette."

"Thank you," the ghost smiled and stood up. She raised her arms ready to curtsy, but then...to the dismay of everyone, her left arm popped off. It hit the ground in second. The Findendor first-years gasped just as the right arm popped off. There Findendor house ghost Arianne Amette was completely armless. Completely armless Arianne Amette.

"Ahhhhhhh!" Mayberry and Veronica once again held onto each other as they screamed for dear life.

"Oh, pish posh," the ghost bent down, "this happens all the time." She rolled her eyes, "Now could somebody please be a kind-heart and get me my arms?"

Mayberry and Veronica stood up, they bent down and reached for her arms, but their hands vanished through. The only thing Mayberry felt was the cold rush of air, like a penguin's breath.

"Oh, tally mo, it seems you are all useless humans, no bother," she exhaled and her arms on the ground began to wiggle, then they floated up her and stuck back in her sockets. Once her arms glued on she spun them around. "There we go," her fingers danced in the air, "that is more like it."

"What…what happened to your arms?" Nellie asked, her mouth full of the chocolate pudding that had just appeared on their table two seconds ago.

"Oh, nothing too bad," No-longer armless Arianne placed her arms on her hips and floated around in a tiny circle, "I was just one of the only female knights of my time...and lo' the men hated me." She drew her eyebrows together, "I had won hundreds of battles, and millions of jousts and saved villages all before the other men even got dressed. So, one night, those jealous rats came to my tent," she knelt, "they captured me while I was sleeping," she wiggled her arms in the air, "then they tied my arms to horses."

Mayberry reached for a pudding.

"Your arms?" Veronica had a pudding of her own, it was sliding down her chin.

"Yes, wild stallions!" The ghost was reaching her arms in the air, "Once my arms were tied, they slapped the horses and the wild beasts sprinted away…ripping both of my arms out." Mayberry dropped the pudding, she was suddenly not very hungry. Every first year with pudding dropped theirs as well, the floor clattered with a collative _cling!_

The ghost laughed, "oh don't worry, I haunted them for the rest of their miserable lives!" She continued to laugh and floated down the table.

"Now that is one heck of a story," Veronica chuckled and reached down for her pudding, half of it was still on the floor. "Oh, come on!" she said as Mayberry raised her eyebrows, "the five-second rule." Mayberry giggled and watched Veronica scoop up the rest of the pudding in her mouth.

"I thought you hated the taste of floor," Mayberry laughed.

Veronica smiled, "Yes, but Dovedimple floor tastes great!" Mayberry didn't think she could take handle any more food, but the pudding did look good. She reached for a new cup just as a hush echoed through the hall. It was not an awkward silence, it did not involve someone doing a turtle dance with their hands. It was silence right before a movie, when you knew something good was going to happen.

Alba Bumblebore stood at the center of the Headmistress's table. Mayberry licked her spoonful of pudding and stared at the woman. Headmistress Alba's eyes were the exact brown of her bedroom door and her long hair had more braids that Mayberry thought possible. She also had jewels and ribbons tied at the ends. It was very hard to look away from.

"Attention please," Bumblebore had her wand up against her neck again and her soft voice resonated around the hall. The floating lights in the sky darkened as the light around Bumblebore grew brighter. She had the full attention of everyone. Mayberry glanced at the potions teacher...her scar burned...well maybe not everyone. Professor Vape's glare seemed to remain only on Mayberry.

"Once again, I would like to warmly welcome all new and returning students to Dovedimple School of Wizardy and Witchcraft," there was a polite clap and Bumblebore continued, "As one of the best magic schools in the country, let's make this the best year yet!" She smiled and her face looked ten years younger, "and so, first I would like to take the time to once again remind everyone to study hard, laugh harder, and enjoy everything this amazing school has to offer!" That got a rousing scream from the students and Mayberry clapped along. She was already having an amazing time and couldn't believe there would be more.

"But…" Bumblebore lowered her voice, the clapping died and the floating candle above her dimmed, "I do need to remind and warn all to avoid the fourth-corridor on the lower left of the castle, and please-"

"Stay 'ut thee Forsaken Forest!" Bumblebore was cut off by a woman on the opposite end. She was the opposite of Bumblebore in every way: dirty, dressed in a thick coat, and dark hair cut short. She was old, with wrinkles deeper than the biggest butt crack.

"Yes…. thank you, Magus, I was just about to say that," Bumblebore politely smiled, "this is just a friendly reminder to stay out of the Forsaken Forest."

"Aye! Now you say it! Before you were going slow so I best warn ya," she glared around the hall, a dirty cat meowed in her arms, "nobody gets in the Forest!" Magus yelled and turned, she wobbled out of the hall, and Mayberry prayed the poor woman wouldn't fall over.

"Now, where was I? Hmmmm…." the light above Bumblebore began to glow with a warm purple hue, "oh yes, House points begin tomorrow morning at 6 am sharp. Classes begin at 8 am sharp and the first Zedditch will be in two weeks."

"Headmistress-" Bumblebore was interrupted by Professor Vape, the long-nosed woman whispered into the happy woman's ear.

"Yes," Bumblebore nodded as Professor Vape sat back down, Mayberry rubbed the top of her forehead, it began to burn again. "Also, I want everyone to welcome our new Professor Against the Dark Arts, Professor Trembella." Bumblebore started the clapping as the woman Mayberry met in at the pub stood up. She politely waved and her hijab remained glued to her head. Mayberry cried out as her scar not only burned but began to hurt. The pain feeling like 173 angry hornets stinging her head.

"Mayberry!" Veronica reached over, her cold hands brought Mayberry back to the present. She opened her eyes.

"It was my scar again," Mayberry whispered.

"Don't worry," Veronica smiled, "we'll figure what is bothering it...I promise." Mayberry nodded and tried to smile. The pain in her forehead began to fall away. She looked back up to see Bumblebore still talking to the students.

"To end our gathering feast, the school song!" Bumblebore whipped her wand in the air. Mayberry frowned and turned to Veronica she also shrugged, the school song nothing neither had prepared for. Mayberry didn't need to look at Hermes to know he probably had it memorized. "Don't worry," Bumblebore's voice boomed even without her wand microphone, "I will show the words, you just provide the tune," she winked, "any tune your heart fancies!"

At once golden words began flowing out of Bumblebore's wand, the words lifted into the air and circled around the hall. The students around her began to sing, everyone in different tunes and different melodies, but still sounding the same. Veronica began to sing to the tune of a One Direction song while Mayberry settled for the classic Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.

 _Dovedimple, Dovedimple, Dovey Dimpled Dovedimple,_

 _Help us learn new things now,_

 _Whether we be young and fast,_

 _Or old balding cows,_

 _Our minds could do with growing,_

 _With fresh ideas and bright words,_

 _For now, they're empty and echoing,_

 _With fried bugs and road-killed birds,_

 _So make us know what there is to remember,_

 _Bring back the things that vanished,_

 _You keep pushing us to the top, we won't stop_

 _And learn until our brains our cabbage!_

Mayberry ended and laughed, Veronica had finished just around the same time. Soon, the entire great hall ended their own song...all except two slow voices in the back.

"Bloody…" Veronica shook her head as Mayberry saw the two voices still singing. It was none other than Gina and Francia Beasley, their voices mashing together in a slow funeral march. Mayberry laughed as Veronica turned bright red with embarrassment. The two girls finally ended.

"Cabbbbbbagggeeee," their voices echoed in the hall and they stood up like they were Adele herself. The other students began to clap and the twins curtsied as Veronica's face only got redder.

"Wonderful," Bumbled chuckled, "now that we have sung the song, let's live the story. Let the new school year officially begin!" Bumble clapped her hands and the lanterns in the sky burst open. They were fireworks, the colorful lights sparkling down like rain. Mayberry jumped up as a spark hit her. It wasn't hot, it was the type of warm of a friend's hugs, or a puppy dog's bark. Mayberry reached up for a blue spark. It landed on her head and her mouth filled with a flavor like a blueberry gumdrop.

The rest of the students jumped up and danced in the sparks. Mayberry giggled and swirled around, each time a spark landing on her, a new flavor hitting her mouth. She tasted sweet strawberry, summer watermelon, and chocolate chip cookies. The rain of sparks ended and Veronica grabbed onto Mayberry's hand.

"Quickly come on!" She tugged her over towards the beginning of the Findendor table. She pulled her to the end with all the new and excited first years. Hermes still had a book under his arm and Nellie was trying to get her pet frog quiet.

"All Findendor First Years this way please…" An older girl with curly red hair up to her shoulders waved the new students behind her. Mayberry quickly leaped into line behind Veronica and Nellie. "This way please!" The girl turned around and glared at Veronica, "I'm watchin' you," she pointed then turned and began marching out the hall.

"Veronica?" Mayberry questioned as she matched the fast pace of the others in front of her.

"Oh that's just my sister," Veronica said in front of her, "goody-goody two shoes Thalia," Veronica folded her arms, "I won't give her the pleasure of yelling at me."

The group of new Findendor's were lead out the great hall, through two hallways and into a large room full of staircases. Mayberry's feet stopped cold on the stone.

"Rrribbeettt," Nellie's frog leaped onto Mayberry's shoulder. She jumped in the air and collided with Veronica. They fell over onto the floor.

"I knew you wouldn't last very long Ronnie," Thalia was over them in a second she reached down and helped the two up.

"But it wasn't me! It was the frog!" Veronica protested her arms flying in the air.

"Whatever, just try to keep up," Thalia scowled and was back to the front and the line of first years began their march forward.

"Sorry," Mayberry whispered. Veronica just folded her arms.

"It doesn't matter, like my mum always says, being the youngest girl is never going to be easy," Veronica shrugged. Nellie reached out and tried to grab Trina, the frog was sitting on the closest staircase.

"Trina!" Nellie screamed just as the staircase began to float in the air. It floated up five floors and connected onto a ledge, the frog vanishing from sight. "Oh no," Nellie shook her head and Mayberry patted her back.

"Don't worry, we'll find your frog Nellie," Mayberry tried to comfort her new friend, even if she had no idea how they were going to. The staircases flying in the air without reason or care.

"We better," Nellie grumbled, "or else my grandpa is going to kill me!"

"This way Findendors!" Thalia voices ripped through the now crowded room, where other students were jumping onto to staircases. The staircases shot into the air and connected onto any random floor. Mayberry had no idea how they knew which staircase went where.

"The staircases usually have a mind of their own," Thalia began as the three of them jumped onto a staircase with the rest of their house, "the trick is to remind the bloody thing who's boss." Thalia stomped the first rung of the staircase and the thing began to move. It shot up and circled over to the sixth right ledge. The wind whipped at Mayberry's hair as she gripped onto the side, she would have to get used to this.

As the staircase flew up, Mayberry couldn't help but glance at a darkened hall two floors below. The inside was pitch black, with no moving paintings or flickering lights. That had to the one Bumblebore was talking about. Mayberry held onto the side and the staircase fitted into the ledge.

"This way, hurry up please!" Thalia's voice quickened Mayberry's and Veronica's steps. They collided with the end of the group as they turned down the next hall. The wall was lined with paintings. It was as if an art museum had come to life. Paintings of battles, of women sitting, of men laughing, of anything and everything was on the walls. They were also moving, reaching out, talking, going from one frame to the next. Mayberry didn't know which one to keep her eyes on. If she stared at the painting of a woman braiding her hair too long, she wouldn't be able to see the dog jumping over the large hedge and trying to catch the rabbit.

The group stopped at a large painting a third of the way on the wall. It wasn't the widest or tallest, nor even had the shiniest looking frame. It was a large man strumming a guitar. He had mustache hipsters would envy and the type of pants that showed everything.

"Password," the man sang as he strummed along to the guitar.

"Fittlepud Puddy," Thalia said. The man in the painting stopped strumming, and looked around. "First years hun?" He laughed as Thalia nodded.

"Alright well enjoy your new rooms," he quickly strummed a fast-paced rhyme as his photo swung open, revealing a large sitting area and the biggest fireplace Mayberry had ever seen. It was bigger than two of her not-quite-an-attic rooms.

"Girls to the left and boys to the right," Thalia stepped in as the new crowd of students flooded through, "you will find your belongings are already at a bed, remember classes start at 8 am sharp. Have fun!"

The students climbed up the stairs. Mayberry followed but she wanted to stay down and try out the couches that looked like they were made just for her butt. This entire house corridor smelled like cinnamon and was covered in beautiful rugs and painted photos of the sea.

"Come on Mayberry! I have a good feeling you and me are going to be bunk mates!" Veronica was sprinting up the stairs and Mayberry laughed along. Her butt would have plenty of time to try out the couches, but now she needed to try out her new room. A room that was not-quite-an-attic, because it would actually be a real room this time.


	13. Mayberry is late

Hello Mayberry Dotter lovers! It has been a fun summer and fall. Sorry I have not posted in awhile. I had a dream last night about Mayberry Dotter. And that only means one thing...I have to finish her story! So get ready for more to come, I love comments and any ideas for what I should add. Thanks for reading, now on with the chapter.

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 _Mayberry opened her eyes to darkness. She fumbled her hands forward but could barely see them. Her fingers came into view and she snuffled a scream. They weren't her fingers. They fell back at her sides and her feet continued forward on the cold stone. She whipped her arm up and a reddish wand blasted forward._

 _"Patentibus!" a voice boomed, and a large door banged open. The crashing sound_ ringed _in her ears and she stepped around the flapping wooden doors._

 _Instantly she was outside, the cold wind whipped at her cheeks and the millions of stars lightened her path. She stumbled in the thick grass and hit her foot against a rock._

 _"Crappppp that's going to leave a mark," her voice was not hers, but it came from her mouth. It was lower and trembled with the pain radiating from her foot. She pushed the foot back in the grass, the mud sliding into her boot._

 _"Crap," the voice_ yelped _again. She stepped forward, back to the hefty pace that left her breath short. She moved away from the castle and headed towards the thick trees below._

 _Mayberry's breath hurried, she wasn't supposed to be here. This was where the headmistress had just warned about. She could see the dark trees and the heavy leaves covering the stars from view. The place looked like one big shadow. Mayberry didn't want to go in there. She didn't want to...she tried to scream. But her mouth wasn't hers. Mayberry winced, and her scar burned bright. It raged, banging against her head she had never felt pain like this before. Mayberry didn't think she could take it much long-_

She awoke.

* * *

"Mayberry!" Veronica held onto her shoulders and shook her back and forth. "Mayberry wake up wake up wake up!"

"I'm up!" Mayberry protested and rose from her bed, her vision blackened as the blood rushed to her head. She placed a finger on her star-shaped scar. It screamed in protest. "Ouch," she mumbled.

"Come on we're going to be late!" Veronica protested. Jumping off the bed she wildly rushed into the closet. Veronica began to tear clothes away. A robe landed on Mayberry's head as she threw it out. "I don't know why you slept past the alarm, but we are going to be late!"

Mayberry quickly got up, her forehead still burned but she couldn't be late for her first day of witch school. She fumbled the robe over her head, impressed that it was thick and instantly made her feel like she was wearing the most comfortable blanket in the world. She reached over for her glasses and placed them back on her nose. Veronica's face widened at her, the millions of freckles and two worry lines deepened on her forehead.

"Here," Veronica explained, handing her a hairbrush that had more red hair than bristles, "your hair is a bird's nest!" Mayberry huffed and quickly pulled the bristles over her knots, she wished she could braid her hair like Veronica. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand, but they didn't have time.

"This is good enough," Mayberry threw the brush back at Veronica who grabbed it with ease, "let's go." They dashed out the door and down the stairs, out through the painting and through the stone halls. Their feet slapped against the stone as they hurried to breakfast. Mayberry didn't have time to gape at the moving paintings or gawk at the staircase. She just needed to get to breakfast before others noticed they were late.

* * *

"Well look who's late." Mayberry and Veronica's feet slid over the stone as a blonde girl stepped in front of them. Behind her were two larger girls, one with pigtails and the other with brown hair cut roughly at the chin.

"Oh no," Mayberry breathed at the same time Veronica sighed, "you can't be serious."

"If it isn't the great Girl-who-remained," Draca Talfo, the evil girl from the robe shop snickered, "and oh," she peered at Veronica and picked up one of her braids, "guessing by the millions of freckles and hair too red to be considered legal…you are a Beasley."

"Watch it," Veronica pulled her hair away from Draca and flung it over her shoulder. She crossed her arms and lowered her eyebrows. Mayberry had never seen Veronica angry. "Being a Beasley is much better than a Talfo."

"Oh please," Draca laughed and if on cue, the two girls behind her joined in. They each had a distinctive laugh, but together made a crushing sound that made it hard to breathe. Mayberry reminded herself to take larger inhales. "I'm not going to take orders from a puggle lover loser pants."

"Puggle lover?" Mayberry couldn't stop herself from repeating Draca. It was a strange insult she had never heard before. She had heard loser pants. _But puggle lover?_ If puggles were non-magical humans, then what was so wrong with loving them?

"Hey, I said watch it," Veronica jabbed a finger at Draca, who glared at her. Mayberry reached over and pulled Veronica away. Their first day was not the best time to pick a fight.

"You know Dotter," Draca spat, some spittle landing on her cheeks, "you could be so much more if you hang out with us." Draca pointed at herself and the two girls behind her. Mayberry couldn't help but notice how sharp and shiny Draca's nails were. Mayberry glanced down at her own, they were misshapen and dull. Veronica's had mud covered under the beds.

"No," Mayberry met Draca's eyes and shook her head, "I think I can do even more if I hang out with my real friends."

"Ya," Veronica pounded two fists together, making her look tougher than Mayberry knew she was. Mayberry was happy to see her smile, missing tooth and all.

"You're going to regret that Dotter," Draca pointed her sharp nail into Mayberry's chest. She reminded herself to stand straight even if the perfect nails hurt. They would probably leave marks.

"I don't think so," Mayberry shook her head. Draca grunted and whipped around. Her white blonde hair marched out the hall, the two girls' feet pounding against the stone to catch up.

"What was _that_ about?" Mayberry whispered as she and Veronica scurried into the main hall. The scent of breakfast rolls, cinnamon pancakes, and perfectly ripe fruit hit her nose. Students were already halfway through their breakfast, thankfully too hungry to notice they were late. _Extremely late._

"Stupid Draca is the daughter of the Stupid Talfo family," Veronica angrily ripped a jelly roll in half, she shoved some in her mouth, "and they think the world should be puggle-less," Mayberry covered herself as Veronica's roll spewed out of her mouth, "and to top that all off…" Veronica pointed the roll into the sky, "the world only full of Pure-births."

"Purebread?" Mayberry grabbed a pancake and covered it in syrup. She scooped a piece up with her fork and bit into the delicious sweetness. The syrup rolled in her mouth and made her smile.

"Pure-birth," Veronica enunciated the end, "not pure-bred like dogs or cats." Mayberry laughed, taking another bite of her breakfast. They should have called it Pure-blood or something more official. Pure-birth didn't sound quite right. "Only wizard and witches in the family," Veronica bent down and whispered, her braids touching the table, "Because some magical folk can have non magical parents."

"Cool," Mayberry had finished her pancake and reached for a banana, it was the most beautiful banana she had ever seen. It had the perfect amount of yellow and barely any brown spots.

"Cool?" Veronica shook her head, "wouldn't that be weird if your parents are puggles and then poof…" she exploded her hands out, "you suddenly have magical powers."

"I wouldn't say cool," a voice added into their conversation.

"Thank you," Veronica nodded to her left then stopped, "oh it's you." The book lover boy Hermes stared at them from behind his frizzy hair.

"What would you call it then?" Mayberry leaned forward; unsurprised to see the boy had three books in his lap. He had probably read them all before breakfast.

"I would call it extraordinary," Hermes smiled. He had a nice face, something that Mayberry had not noticed before.

"No one cares what you call it," Veronica waved him away and leaned closer to Mayberry, "let's go find some other place to sit." She nudged in his direction.

"But we just got here," Mayberry rolled her eyes, she reached for a biscuit covered in chocolate she hadn't seen before, "besides it's almost," she glanced at the clock, "umm…" she dropped the biscuit, "I think we have to go."

Mayberry glanced back at Veronica, and suddenly they were the only ones on the bench. The only ones left in the hall.

"Uh oh," Mayberry tried to find Hermes, but he wasn't sitting next to them anymore, "Veronica…"

"What?" Veronica gnawed at her roll.

"I think we're going to be late to Potions."

* * *

"Potions is a vital part of any good witch or wizard's toolbox," the voice droned from the other side of the door, "it can help or hinder any situation." It was the exact door Mayberry had seen in her first nightmare. She shivered, as her forehead burned. She shook her head and craned her ear closer to the door, now was not the time for that.

"When should we go in?" Mayberry whispered to Veronica whose ear was also smashed against the door, her braids thrown over her shoulder.

"It still sounds like Professor Vape is making introductions to the class," her red eyebrows smashed together, and the two tiny forehead lines appeared. Even though it was dark Mayberry could tell she had on her thinking face.

"A good potion can be used to treat any bad or lazy spell," Mayberry tried to pay attention to the voice on the other end, but it was so boring. It dragged on like some educational movie bad teachers made kids watch in class.

"I think we should go when she is setting up an experiment or something," Veronica leaned in closer towards the door; the door swallowed her ear and left a mark on her face. "Because then she might not notice us."

"Now, I will show you a quick demonstration of what any good witch or wizard will be able to do after the completion of my course," the voice muffled even softer, "as long as you pay attention."

"Okay," Mayberry heard clinks of glass like the professor was grabbing some supplies out of a closet. She nodded at Veronica. "I think we should go in."

"Wait!" Veronica held up a hand as the voice on the other side continued.

"Does anyone know the ingredients for a basic sleeping potion," Professor Vape's voice sounded like it was getting closer.

"Anyone?" The voice came right next to the door.

 _Uh, oh_ , Mayberry thought, as the door swung open.

She landed face first on the stone floor with Veronica crashing next to her. The classroom erupted in laughs.

"Do you by chance know the ingredients, Miss Dotter?" Professor Vape leaned over the two, her voice slick as ice. It sent shivers down Mayberry's back.

"Ummm," Mayberry tried to stand but got tangled in the mess of arms and legs.

"No," Professor Vape snared, "I guess that's something the famous Dotter doesn't know…. hmmm," she turned to look at Veronica, Mayberry heard her friend gulp, "maybe your Beasley friend here can help you out."

More laughs erupted as Veronica's face turned the color of her hair.

"Snail juice, baby Willow tree bark, and rotten cabbage spray," Hermes whispered next to them. He was sitting on the stool to the right.

"Snail juice, baby Willow tree bark and rotten cabbage spray?" Veronica copied word for word what the book-lover boy had whispered.

"Well then," Professor Vape leaned back up, her shadow towering over them. She frowned, her face looking like it had been pulled to the ground. She coughed and turned to the front of the room. "I am docking ten points from Findendor for tardiness," she paced to the main desk, as fellow Findendor students moaned, "and another five points for disruption in class." The groans rumbled the classroom. She turned around and pointed to two empty chairs. "Now hurry and get to your seats before I make it more."

Veronica and Mayberry scrambled to their stools.

"Now then," Professor Vape smiled, it looked more like a normal person's frown, "who wants homework?"

* * *

Thanks for reading,

I'm adding more classes next week, does anyone have any good ideas?


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